
Class ( JSSfP.T 

i 
CDE^RIGHT DEPOSIT. 



®If^ ^tmt (Untnttat 

MORE OR LESS A VITAL SATIRE 

BY 
PERCIVAL W. WELLS 

AUTHOR OF 

LILIES OF .THE VALLEY, THE MARTYR's RETURN 
THE SON OF MAN, ETC. 




WANTAGH, NEW YORK 

BARTLETT PUBUSHING COMPANY 

1916 






G>pynght, 19 16 

by 

Bortlett Publishing Co. 



« 






SEP -9 1916 



CI.A437617 
f 



"Ko 



l 



9 
ID 

^ CONTENTS 

P 

\9 Page 
Foretaste 7 

Chapter I The Descent to the Circuses . . 13 

II Circus Maximus 

OR, The Biggest Circus . . . . 21 

III Circus Stultus 

OR, The Silly Circus 36 

IV Circus Glacialis 

or. The Icy Circus . . . .65 

V Circus Pluvialis 

or. The Rainy Circus 88 

VI Circus Classicus 

OR, The Classy Club 130 

VII Circus Pyrotechnalis 

OR, The Fiery Circus 159 

VIII Circus Horribilimus 

or, The Circle of Horrors . . .211 



FORETASTE 

JAMES CONKLIN had studied 
^ Demonology for years. It was more 
than a hobby with him — his favorite pur- 
suit. Not having had the privilege of 
taking a thorough course in Theology 
when he was a young man, he made up 
for this lack by reading all the books he 
could find on the subject of Hell and its 
keeper. There was not even a pamphlet 
in existence which he did not eagerly 
peruse in the hope of adding to his 
knowledge of the subject. 

Homer he knew by heart, as well as 
the sixth book of Vergil, and Dante's 
Inferno. Milton's Paradise Lost, in 
spite of its many crudenesses, stuffing, 
patches and strange mixtures, had long 
been as familiar to him as his ABC. 
He studied the Bible every day in the 
hope of coming across something new 
about Satan and his wicked elements. 



He even plowed through the early 
church fathers and the later sons, both 
natural and unnatural, whenever he 
could summon the courage. It seemed 
to him, as indeed it has seemed to many 
better men than he, that he could some 
day learn the whole truth by reading; 
but in this he was sadly mistaken. The 
more printed matter he studied, the 
farther away he went from the solution 
of his problems, until at last in his 
flashes of sanity he prayed to be deliv- 
ered from his madness, yea even to be 
borne ofif by the Evil One to the final 
home below. James Conklin was verily 
possessed of a devil, though he realized 
it not. 

It happened one late afternoon in 
November, when the days grow quickly 
short, that he struck a sulphur match in 
order to light the gas. The elements 
set free by the ignition ascended into his 
nostrils and almost strangled him. 

"The Devil!" he cried with a loud 
voice. 



Suddenly the room became filled with 
a greenish light; the odor of brimstone 
grew stronger and stronger, until it 
choked out what little air was left in 
Conklin's lungs. He gasped for breath, 
and sank weakly into the nearest chair. 
Immediately the Devil stood before 
him. 

"What under the earth do you want 
with me?" the fearful visitor demanded, 
stroking his lips with the end of his tail. 

Conklin did not lack nerve. He saw 
in a second the chance he had sought 
his whole life-time. He coughed some 
of the sulphur out of his bronchials, 
stuttered, and then found his voice. 

"You are a hell of a man to disturb 
an innocent person thus in his own dom- 
icile!" he rudely exclaimed. He imag- 
ined he could intimidate. 

"Not on your sweet life!" the Devil 
replied. "I have had experience before 
with innocent people, who summoned 
me in somewhat the same manner that 
you employed, only to deny their pur- 



poses after it was too late. I am the 
Deuce. Here is my card" — and he 
handed a two-spot of hearts to Conklin. 

As the latter's fingers touched it, the 
card burst into flames and was consumed 
in an instant. The Devil watched with 
curling lips as the man drew back, pale 
from fright; he was disappointed, how- 
ever, if he thought that Conklin would 
plead for mercy. 

^^I perceive plainly that what they 
have written about you has not all been 
a pack of lies," said James calmly, after 
swallowing two or three times to restore 
confidence, not to speak of spittle. "It 
is a pleasure to see you, I am sure. Will 
not your satanic majesty have a chair?" 

The Devil smiled approvingly, and 
took the proffered seat. "You are a cool 
one," he remarked, pulling a long cigar 
out of his vest pocket and lighting it 
with a breath. "Won't you smoke?" 

"Why — ye-s, at least a cigar, thank 
you." 

"A-hem! I feel strangely drawn 



xo 



toward you, I must confess. You re- 
mind me a lot of Deacon Dowling. He 
was a corker. Why, it took me twenty 
years to get him. We had a little bar- 
gain that he was to come with me at the 
end of ten; but he continually put me 
off with one excuse or another, until 
finally I had to take him by surprise. 
You should have seen him fume when 
he got to hell ! He was a hypocrite, and 
tried to hide under the mantle of the 
church, — but we found him all right, 
ha ha! You are a straightforward man, 
on the contrary, and have never molested 
anybody. You are outside of my pale. 
I have no power over you. Tell me 
frankly what you want with me." 

^^Now you are talking, Satan. I'll 
come right to the point. Can you take 
me to hell for a short visit, and show me 
around — over the whole plant? I have 
read much about you, and according to 
most reports you are considered an 
affable chap." 

^'Well, seeing that it is you, brother 



II 



Conklin," replied Satan grimly, "I'll 
make an exception in your case, if you 
are determined. Nevertheless, I will 
not be responsible for any damages in 
case of fire. We issue no insurance pol- 
icies, you understand. You will have to 
run your own risks. All I can do is to 
give you one of our asbestos visitor suits 
and warn our imps not to harass you." 

"Well, that is very kind of you," said 
Mr. Conklin enthusiastically. "When 
will it be most convenient for you to call 
for me?" 

"Tomorrow night at twelve. You 
will be as welcome as the many prom- 
inent men who have been received be- 
fore you, some of whom had no return 
coupon. Have no fear for yourself, 
however, Mr. Conklin: the fates are 
with you. Good-night." 



12 



CHAPTER I 

The Descent 

A T the appointed hour the Devil 
•^^ appeared at the home of Mr. Con- 
klin, announced as before by green light 
and brimstone fumes. He took his dar- 
ing guest gently under his mantle, and 
whirled away through the air, invisible 
to human eyes, at a horrid rate. At 
length they arrived at the summit of a 
high mountain, crowned with an im- 
mense crater, into which Satan sped like 
a meteor; and, coming to a sudden stop 
within, he dropped his breathless burden 
and placed him upon his feet. 

They were in a large room furnished 
and decorated in the modern style, quite 
similar to the appointment of the wait- 
ing-room in a big department store — 
Greenhat's, Geordan and Arsh's, or 
Wan Maker's. 

X3 



^'You must register here," said the 
Devil, pointing to a writing table on 
which lay a guest-book. ^^Just burn 
your name at the top of the next page, 
and then we will rest a while before 
going below. This is our top-floor office, 
recently remodeled by the owner of one 
of our great Ne Ork stores ; I like his 
work: I gave him a vacation of a week 
for doing it. Perhaps you may meet 
him downstairs. 

"I was so much pleased with the tall 
sky-scrapers of Ne Ork, because they 
bring me an immense patronage, that I 
had this building put up. Our patrons 
appreciate it. There is not the least 
difficulty in heating it, even in severe 
weather. We use the lower floors as 
overflow furnaces, with sound-proof 
partitions between, in order that the 
inmates won't disturb each other with 
their yells. You see, we keep up to 
date; otherwise there would be no fun 
in this business. It is kind of hard to 
change over the old things, to be sure; 



but then — we have plenty of skilled 
labor. 

'When you are ready, Mr. Conklin, 
we shall take the 'elevator. You will 
be surprised to see whom we have for 
an 'elevator boy. Everything has to 
change with the times. There is little 
real poetry abroad nowadays, on account 
of its being a mechanical age; and we 
must keep pace. We rarely receive 
visits from poets here, though there are 
lots of bad poetasters down stairs being 
corrected by Bald Spitman, one of our 
chief torturer trusties. Come along, 
and don't be afraid." 

They walked arm in arm through the 
beautiful hall to the 'elevator door, 
where Satan pressed the button seven 
times. 

''The boy just took a load down to 
the lowest circus," he explained with a 
smile, "but he is nearly up here by this 
time. He is very slow, as one might 
expect of a boy of his years. Let us look 
at the mottoes while we are waiting." 

IS 



He pointed first to a large sign which 
hung over the 'elevator door. It read : 

^XEAVE ALL PITY BEHIND." 

^^Revised version," chuckled his maj- 
esty. "We shorten the corners whenever 
we can. Perhaps Dante would not 
approve of it. How things have 
altered since he and the Mantuan poet 
descended through the Italian woods! 
Our methods now are much less poet- 
ical, yet they do fairly well. What 
stock do Mellicans put in grandiose 
verse? They are more versed in watery 
stock. That old Italian road is used 
still as a back passage; the dynamiters 
and other destructive persons are thrown 
down through there, since we are 
afraid that they might blow up our 
lovely new quarters; we show them no 
quarter, ha ha! Look at the sign yonder 
to the left— ^DO NOT PLAY WITH 
FIRE!' Do you not think it appropri- 
ate? Well, here comes the boy." 

At the end of an hour, which seemed 

x6 



an eternity to Conklin, the 'elevator 
came up with a mighty rush of hot air, 
which blew through the cracks in the 
door with such force that it knocked 
Conklin ofif his feet and singed his eye- 
brows. 

^^Hell-o!" cried Satan as he helped 
him rise. "I forgot to paint you with 
our fire-proof liquid and give you an 
asbestos coat. It is best to do it now. 
Follow me into the actors' dressing- 



room." 



Conklin did so; and in a few minutes 
he reappeared rigged out in a white coat 
that put Mark Twain's to shame. On 
the top of the hood, which, fortunately, 
he could not see, were a couple of small 
horns — symbols of cuckoldry. 

"Fire away, Satan," he said, "and 
show us what you have." 

The 'elevator door was opened cau- 
tiously, and a weazened old face, which 
seemed to be a relic of the flood, was 
thrust out. Hot flames wheeled round 
the eyes; a fetid breath issued from the 

17 



toothless mouth, almost overcoming 
Conklin a second time. Then, when the 
mechanician perceived who had called, 
he swung wide the door, and in a cring- 
ing manner begged his master's pardon. 

"All right this time, old boy," said 
Satan with an imperious gesture, "but 
watch out that it does not happen again. 
Haven't I told you over and over again 
that whenever I ring seven times you 
are to take charcoal tablets, even if they 
do hurt your stomach, and ascend at top 
speed? When did you shave last?" 

"Early this morning, Sir." 

"That is right. I hope you used anti- 
septics?" 

"Yes, Sir." 

"Mr. Conklin, allow me to present to 
you my old friend Charon. He is still 
in the business — exporting spirits, and 
though a bit antiquated he will learn. 
He has certainly taken a fall out of Dr. 
Hustler. Congratulate him on his new 
uniform" — he whispered — "he is quite 
proud of it." 

i8 



"Which floor, Sir?" demanded the 
old water-rat, now transformed into a 
decent 'elevator-buoy. 

"Hell in general," responded the 
wicked One, sweeping his arm through 
the air in a wide circle. "We wish to 
show the whole thing, with the excep- 
tion of one or two of our secret orders, 
to Mr. Conklin. He may be able to do 
some up-to-date advertising for us when 
he gets back to the underworld on earth, 
and say a good word for our special 
bargain counters. Stop at the first cir- 
cus, Charron, and go gently." 

In spite of being carried down with 
great consideration, according to Satan's 
strict behest, Conklin could not endure 
the awful speed of the dropping 'ele- 
vator; it seemed that his stomach had 
been left behind at the reception room, 
and his head whirled dizzily; he lost 
consciousness. Three hours later he 
was awakened by a tremendous clap of 
thunder on the left. Blinding lightning 
flashes followed one another in swift 

Z9 



succession, first white, then blue, then 
green. The odor of brimstone mingled 
with that of burning flesh was almost 
suffocating. Above the din of thunder, 
which came constantly, plainly rose to 
the sickened ears of Conklin horrid 
screams — the cries of the tortured: he 
was in the first circle, the Circus Max- 
imus ! 



20 



CHAPTER II 

The Circus Maximus 

••r\ON'Tbe alarmed, James," the Devil 
whispered in his wounded ear, 
"nothing may hurt you here. Perhaps I 
had better put a pair of our new sound- 
proof plugs — designed by a Ne Orker 
just the other day — in your ears. You 
will still be able to hear my voice with 
perfect ease: nobody ever misses that! 
Here you are— had 'em in my pocket 
Handy thing to keep out too much sym- 
pathy as well as noise: — you remember 
our special maxim nailed over the 'ele- 
vator door upstairs? Of course we 
aristocrats are hardened to the little 
complaints we run up against down 
here. 

"This is the great Circus, designed by 
Brother Wite after the old Roman plan. 
Wite has done a lot for me. Here 



dwell the HYPOCRITES! Listen— 
ha! They are getting all that's coming 
to them, take it from me. This entire 
place is reserved especially for them, 
and I think they appreciate their reser- 
vation ; at least their shouts would denote 
such." 

"What are those numberless throngs 
of spirits being chased through the 
flames by others with three-tined pitch- 
forks?" demanded Conklin, who by this 
time had become somewhat accustomed 
to his new surroundings and began to 
take an active interest in all that was 
going on. "Why, this is more entertain- 
ing than the Hippodrome!" 

"Yes, those are Presbyterians pursued 
by Congregationalists. They are having 
a bit of fun illustrating their creeds. 
They seem to enjoy it, don't they? They 
are having a hot time. It would take 
too long to enumerate the names of all, 
and besides I do not wish to create a 
slander or start gossip, so you will 
excuse me if I do not introduce you to 



aa 



them personally. There is not a man or 
woman here who did not do harm in the 
world by hypocrisy; they are hardened 
sinners, and we are trying hard to soften 
their hearts. It takes years — ha! — cen- 
turies to burn through the outer shell. 
As soon as the pitchforks make the least 
impression, we double the intensity of 
the flames, thus spurring them on to 
renewed efforts. It pays to follow them 
up closely." 

"Who are those just appearing round 
the corner sticking single-pointed spears 
into the backs of the Congregational- 
ists?" 

"They are Unitarians. Behind them 
come the hypocrites who profess to be 
Disciples, and in their rear run the 
Methodists with hop, skip and a jump. 
There they come now! It's a rare treat 
to see them go. Only the first three 
groups have spears — the rest run for 
sport. There are more, but it would 
take too long to enumerate them all, 
since their name is Legion. I must 

«3 



point out, however, the Baptists, who 
quit the race once every day to take a 
bath in boiling water; those Episco- 
palians, whose apostolic succession never 
gets out of line and to whom we have 
lent protective soles for their feet in 
order to keep them in good trim for the 
special walking torture later : as a result, 
they are extremely fast, and almost 
outrun the flames — but not quite (to lay 
hands on them would be an imposition) ; 
and the Catholics, of whom we can ac- 
commodate only half as much as we 
should like (the other half are cast out 
into eternal darkness), and who have a 
separate playground just beyond. All 
hypocrites who never did any good we 
treat with triple heat and pitch head 
first into lakes of burning tar as soon as 
they have finished the second heat; they 
are at the other end of the Circus. 

"Sometimes we get tired of this racing 
business, and then we have individual 
combats, letting them toss up for 
weapons — whether spears or nets, hot 



24 



swords or shields, and so forth ad infin- 
itum. We have no end of amusements. 
Oh yes, they fight fiercely, Mr. Conklin; 
we never have to urge them, for we pair 
them off from different churches when 
they get tired of scrapping among them- 
selves. Then the next time we set the 
Christians against the Infidels. By the 
way, have you the right time?" 

Conklin reached under his asbestos 
coat and pulled out his Ingersoll. 

^^Quarter of twelve," he said. When 
he tried to put back the watch, it slipped 
from his nervous hand and fell blazing 
to the ground, where it was entirely 
consumed. 

"Another Ingersoll gone to Hell," 
said the Devil with a short laugh. "I 
think we ought to be going. There is 
nothing very interesting to see at the 
present time. Only the hypocrites come 
here, people who committed no very 
grievous crime, but who did more harm 
than good by intentional hypocrisy. At 
the end of a thousand years we look 

as 



them over thoroughly with the hope of 
finding some who have repented, and if 
we are successful in our archeological 
researches we send them up to one of 
the elementary planets for a new start; 
the rest continue with the old treatment. 
It is amazing how admantine shells 
are softened under the electric blasts!" 
Thus he spoke, and beckoned Conklin 
towards the 'elevator. 

"What are those great signs standing 
around the Circus limits?" demanded 
Mr. Conklin. "They look like adver- 
tising signs. What do you do — advertise 
the races and so forth when you have 
special events?" 

"Not at all, my dear sir. That would 
do no good, because we have no trouble 
in filling up the courses, and it would 
be but a waste of time. Our advertise- 
ments are done in a different manner, 
and are almost entirely under the 
management of Brother Mammon. 
Those boards are optional courses: who- 
ever wishes to drop out of line to study 

26 



the boards are at liberty to do so; but 
very few have ever taken advantage of 
the opportunity. They prefer to race 
the flames and forks. On the boards are 
printed selections from the old church 
fathers who mixed dead philosophy and 
foolish speculation with superstitious 
religion. They are too dry to burn — 
so dusty that they put the fire right out. 
Nobody ever stops to read them; if any 
do, we suspect that something is radi- 
cally wrong, perhaps that our treatments 
are too severe, and we immediately send 
them down to the Experimental Station 
to be examined by experts." 

^^Are there none of the children of 
Israel here, Satan?" 

"Yes, yes! There are probably more 
of them than of any other race in pro- 
portion to their numbers. I do not 
object to calling some of them out, if 
you wish to speak to them personally. 
They are so hardened that a little pub- 
lication would do them no hurt." 

His Majesty snapped his tail with a 



sudden jerk, and lo! the whole company, 
millions of them, came to a sudden 
standstill, turned respectfully toward 
their master as if drawn by a magnet, 
and gave him the military salute. 

''Bueno, chicosT' cried Satan, proud 
of their showing. "Let Noah come 
hither!" 

A decrepit old Hebrew slouched for- 
ward from a distant point after a wait 
of forty or fifty minutes, and in three 
hours came up to where they were 
standing. 

"Rather stiff around the joints, old 
boy?" the Devil asked of him. 

"Yes, father. I'm getting 'most too 
aged to run around with the youngsters. 
I should feel more at home on water." 

"Blow some of that fire out of your 
mouth, you silly child! Now don't talk 
to me that way. What in the deuce did 
you want to run away for, when the rain 
was coming down, and leave all the 
other poor devils to drown? You are a 
nice fellow, you are — then whine for 

28 



sympathy. You ought to be sent down 
to the Circus Hor — " 

"Oh please, Mr. Devil, don't mention 
it! I'll be good! Boo hoo!" 

It made Conklin's heart palpitate 
from fear as well as from sympathy to 
see the old child snivel and try to wipe 
the scalding tears off his lashless eye- 
lids and blink through the steam as they 
evaporated. He wanted to go away, yet 
there was something fascinating thus to 
be face to face with one of the ark- 
lights of history. He never expected to 
see Noah in this light, either! 

"Go back to your companions, the 
sweet spirits of night — ah!" said the 
master, and after Noah had shuffled out 
of sight through the throngs, he turned 
to Conklin, smiling as he noticed the 
puzzled expression on his face. "I 
have often been puzzled too, Mr. 
Conklin. Lots of time I have started 
to do away .with the old, out-of-date 
things and people here, but somehow 
they stick like leeches, and I can't 

29 



get rid of them. You know how it is 
yourself: — how hard it comes to throw 
away the relics of your childhood days 
— dance-cards, silly letters from an old 
flame, a withered bouquet, a bit of faded 
ribbon. Such things grip the heart. 
You finger them over lovingly and then 
put them back into your drawer with a 
sigh, wishing all the time that you had 
the courage to drop them into the grate. 
The best we seem to be able to do is to 
reinterpret the old in a different way. 
So with these rheumatic fellows — how- 
ever much they may delay the line, we 
still hang on to them. Anybody else 
you'd like to see or interview?" 

''Why, to tell the truth, I have always 
had a desire to know who Adam was 
and what sort of a man he appeared. 
But I don't suppose he is here, is he?" 

''Not at this moment, Mr. Conklin, 
but we can send for him. Just now he 
is on the roof-garden playing with one 
of our pythons. He was our first cus- 
tomer, and we are proud of him, because 



30 



of the immense patronage he brings us. 
We treat him a little differently from 
the rest. When we were in the old 
building, we had a little plot of land set 
apart with an apple-tree in it and a pond 
of hot pitch underneath. In a small 
hut Adam and Eve had to fry apples for 
us devils to eat when we got hungry. 
They took turns climbing the tree, one 
branch of which, called the Limb of 
Satan, was a trifle weak; and no matter 
how carefully they descended after 
throwing down the apples, they always 
pitched into the pool head first. We 
had a stuffed serpent hidden in the tree 
in order to frighten them. The place 
got to looking awfully seedy, and I was 
glad to be rid of it when we moved into 
our new quarters. It was too near to 
nature. Nowadays the style is to have 
things more artificial, more pleasing to 
the eye, with lots of mechanical devices. 
"Now Adam and Eve live on the roof, 
as I said. The python plays with them 
as if he were a brother; and when they 

31 



forget who they are and why they are 
there, absorbed in their play, the snake 
leads them to a trap door, through which 
they fall. They land at the bottom of 
the 'elevator chute, rather the worse for 
wear. They never fail to land on their 
head, because they have a heavy con- 



science." 



At that moment something white shot 
past the 'elevator door at a terrific speed. 

''There they go!" cried Satan eagerly. 
"They just dropped! It's too bad, Mr. 
Conklin. You would hardly care to see 
them in their present condition — they 
are pretty well broken up about their 
fall. Some other time, perhaps, they 
will be at home. I tell you what I'll do 
— I'll show you over our hot-house. 
Come this way." 

Satan led the way to a door, which 
opened into a large closet. When they 
were inside, he closed the door, and then 
pressed an electric button on the wall. 
The latter opened out, and as the parti- 



al 



tions swung back a telescope came into 
place before them. 

'We can look through this, Conklin, 
and thus save time for you." 

Conklin beheld, reflected on the mir- 
ror of the instrument, the interior of a 
long, narrow building. Rows upon 
rows of spirits sat facing in the same 
direction, toward the east. Imps with 
hoses were running up and down the 
aisles, pouring the contents into the faces 
of the unfortunate wretches — fire, burn- 
ing fire! It was a fearful image. 

^Tirst we exhaust the air in the build- 
ing," Satan explained calmly, ''and 
when the spirits pant for breath we give 
them the fire-hose. What do you think 
of our apparatus? There are lots of 
Israelites in there, hypocrites, every one. 
Some of them are usurers who charged 
over six percent a month for their loans. 
You would be surprised to know what a 
large percent of our friends are women. 
They seem to be the worst offenders 
along the line of hypocritical gossiping. 

33 



Sometimes there is a great display of 
pyrotechniques in there, — when the imps 
meet with spirits that have been soaked 
in alcohol." 

Conklin shivered. ^Who is that man 
that a little demon has been playing the 
hose on ever since we began to look — 
right on the neck, too?" 

"Oh that is Zedekiah, who sneezed at 
the authority of Nebuchadnezzar. He 
has a stiff neck, and the way he holds 
his head bothers our little firemen. 
That's all. Well, I guess that will keep 
you thinking for some time. We'll 
surely have to go now." He closed the 
wall and opened the door. Then they 
called Charon by means of the bell in 
the 'elevator. While they were waiting, 
Conklin asked whether any of the old 
Romans were to be seen. 

"Very few, very few," answered his 
guide. "You don't seem to understand 
our situation. Nobody comes here who 
did not believe in Hell when alive on 
earth." 

34 



"What?" asked Conklin in surprise. 
"No one here who did not believe in 
Hell?" 

"Of course not. Why should she? 
Hell is thought of by people as being a 
place of eternal punishment for their 
neighbors. Naturally the neighbors who 
do not believe in Hell do not come here, 
for they have so much charity at least." 

It seemed to Conklin that Satan was 
actually trying to keep from crying, 
since his voice could scarcely be heard 
through the wads, and clouds of steam 
rose from his eyes. 

"Those who do not believe in a place 
of future punishment for other people 
may have their faults, but they seldom 
come here," he added. 

At that moment Charon opened the 
door, bowing obsequiously. He hap- 
pened to be going by when the bell was 
rung. 

"After you, my dear sir," said Satan, 
and he ushered him into the machine 
politely. "Next floor, Charron!" 

35 



CHAPTER III 

The Circus Stultus 

A S they were speeding down the well 
*^ oiled well with the power of the 
devil added to gravity, Charon turned 
to the evil one and whispered hoarsely: 
'^Does Mr. Conklin blow from Lynn?" 
Satan staggered up against the side of 
the 'elevator, but then recovered him- 
self and frowned horribly. ^^It is not 
every horn that blows, Charon, even on 
the automobiles. The honk is becoming 
more popular than the conch. Your 
sally nearly took me off my feet, but I 
forgive you this time. Don't let it hap- 
pen again. No matter how much you 
may make fun of our residents, you must 
always treat our guests with the greatest 
consideration and courtesy. We must 
guard our appearances, just as the Ne 
Orkers do." He relapsed into silence 

36 



and sat down beside James, who seemed 
sunk in thought. For several hours they 
descended thus, rapidly as lightning, 
yet smoothly as the B. & M. R. R.— 
Satan knows how to make all roads 
smooth. At last Charron applied the 
brakes, and they stopped without a jolt 
at the second story. The master touched 
his visitor lightly on the shoulder. 

"We get out here," he said in a kindly 
manner. "Hungry? Take these con- 
centrated food-tablets, which will be as 
good as a dinner to you. You will be 
tickled almost to death when you swal- 
low them, and they will last until you 
return to your happy home above. 
Don't be afraid. 

"Now this is the Circus Stultus, or 
Silly Circus, in which I take a great 
deal of pride. It is really an educa- 
tional institution. Perhaps you know 
that I am not only one of the most 
famous educators of the world, but the 
special advisor of its schoolmen. There 
is a meeting on today in Chic Ago, but 



37 



as I have this engagement with you, I 
could not be there; so I asked Brother 
Mammon to take my place. He is my 
proxy very often. I am a busy man — 
hardly have time to see my wife and 
children." 

^Who is your wife, Satan?" asked 
Mr. Conklin. "I never knew that you 
were married. That is certainly news 
to me." 

'^There are lots of things that the 
wisest men do not know about — even 
our experimental psychologists, whom 
you will meet in one part of this circus. 
Yes, I got married several years ago. 
Cleopatra is the girl. Ever heard of 
her?" 

^^Of course I have," replied James, 
whose eyes had already recovered from 
the habit of sticking out of their sockets 
when they were startled: he was getting 
used to his new surroundings. "She 
was not a maid, however, Mr. Satan, 
when she came to you! Why lots of 
men, Caesar, Anthony — " 

38 



"I know, I know. You need not tell 
me her history : we have it on our books. 
It was I who helped give her promi- 
nence when she was alive on the earth. 
I was her first love! No, she was not 
a maid when I got her, but she was 
remade. And she is all to the mustard, 
too. She can play with asps all she 
wants to now, and they won't hurt her. 
If you will pardon me, I'll not take you 
to see her. A good-looking man like 
you might make her want to leave 
home, so I'll give her your regards, if 
you like, and we'll forego the rest. You 
came on business, anyway, and not on a 
social visit. Here we are in the play- 
ground of the Silly Circus, where we let 
the poor studes come for ten or twelve 
minutes once or twice a year in order 
to have them appreciate fully what they 



miss." 



In truth, it was a beautiful play- 
ground like a park, only hundreds of 
times larger than Entral Park, Ne Ork, 
and with much cleaner water. Here 



39 



were swans swimming about; birds of 
all kinds and descriptions; tame animals 
running around in the grass and hiding 
in the trees; and flowers springing up 
everywhere. 

'^Sometimes we bring here people that 
teased or vexed other animals malicious- 
ly, to satisfy their own ego, and we 
watch imps, birds and animals tear them 
to pieces, only of course we sensitize 
their nerves first; and we put them 
together as soon as they are rendered 
piecemeal. We do that whenever we 
wish to have a little sport. This little 
stream is all that is left of the Phleg- 
ethon, which has dried up considerably 
on account of the heat in the new build- 
ing. We send it down stairs through a 
tube well greased with Croton oil to be 
utilized for ice. Do you see yonder bed 
of violets? It has its spring underneath 
that bed. Should you like to rest awhile 
here in the park while I go down to see 
Cleopatra for a minute, or should you 



40 



prefer to go at once to the school- 
rooms?" 

^^Being very much interested in mat- 
ters pertaining to education, I think I 
prefer to see the schools, if it is the same 
to you, Mr. Devil." 

"Surely it is the same to me. Brother 
Conklin. Come along." 

At last they arrived at the gates of 
the school, an immense building made 
of adamantine cement with only seventy- 
five percent of rubble in it. There was 
no attempt at architecture because, as 
Satan explained, the poor devils rarely 
saw the outside. 

"The Phlegethon winds around the 
building three times in thousand mile 
curves — the largest brook-wind in the 
world. The furies guard the threshold, 
which is directly ahead. It's the largest 
door in the universe. Within, in the 
outer hall, the fates, the greatest rascals 
of mythology, spin their worm-eaten 
yarns. Are you taking note of all these 
valuable facts, Mr. Conklin? We cross 



41 



over by this bridge — largest of its kind 
in the country — Bridge of Size." 

The bridge groaned beneath their 
feet, because it was unaccustomed to 
carrying living burdens. As they ap- 
proached the threshold, the furies rose 
and lifted their long, vicious whips to 
keep away the intruders ; and they would 
have done Conklin damage had not 
Satan spoken to them harshly. 

^'Don't you know better than to treat 
thus with disrespect my visitors, old 
hags? I have a good mind to send you 
down to the Circus Horri— " 

"Oh please don't!" they cried in uni- 
son, with tears filling their bleary eyes. 
"We'll be good!" So they pleaded for 
mercy, which was immediately granted; 
and their hissing snakes cowered behind 
their heads, trying to hide from sight. 

"I have a good mind to substitute 
good, new Yale locks for their old 
snaky locks," Satan remarked after 
they had entered the inner hall. "But 
we must give them something to do, 



42 



since we are under contract to them, 
by Jove. They wanted to punish the 
unruly scholars, but there are very few 
naughty ones, I assure you, down here 
in our institution. One mention of the 
torrid zone, which is the lowest of all 
the circuses, makes them stand around 
to time. You know yourself that cor- 
poral punishment is out of date, and that 
moral persuasion is being used almost 
entirely in the modern schools. We 
believe in feminizing our students, so 
that they may become more tractable 
and more conscientious in their work — 
more eager to memorize in order to 
show off. Hell-o! here are our ancient 
spinners. Mr. Conklin, allow me to 
introduce you to the Parcae — Nona, 
Decuma, and Morta — good old Roman 



names." 



The three hags mumbled something 
over their toothless gums which Conklin 
could not catch. 

^'Never mind, sweet beauties," Satan 
answered. '^Go ahead and spin. You 

43 



must pardon them, my friend — it is not 
every day that they see a man like you." 

''I couldn't hear what they said," 
answered Conklin. 

^'All the better — you would only blush 
at it. But I think you had better take 
the plugs out of your ears while we are 
in this circus. In the other circuses 
where the healthy people dwell the 
noise is frightful, but here the poor 
wretches can scarcely make a sound. 
Let us stop in the office of the superin- 
tendent for a moment." 

They entered a large office, which was 
made bright and cheerful by means of 
sulphur flames. On the walls were many 
maps; on the window sills stood pots in 
which grew Deadly Night Shade; and 
in one corner lay a dog with three heads 
and four tails. At the desk sat the 
superintendent. 

''Mr. Beelzebub, this is James Con- 
klin, from the world. I am going to 
take him around through the Circus 



44 



Stultus. Are all the classes held right 
on time — on the very dot?" 

^^Yes, Sir, on the second. Each imp- 
teacher passes from one subject to an- 
other at the same second, without losing 
a fraction of time. We have ordered 
full speed ahead today, because the work 
is pressing so that otherwise we can 
never accomplish it all." 

^^That is right, keep them at it. You 
see, Conklin, it would be bad to give 
the spirits time to think, because they 
might waste time in hatching up wicked 
things to do. You remember the old 
proverb about the idle hands, etc. Then 
they might become gossipy, too. It is 
best not to allow them time for reflec- 
tion. Just pull down one of those 
Shades, will you please, Bub? This is 
the plant that makes our students open 
their eyes when they become too effete. 
See the brute in the corner? Nothing 
else than Trivium and Quadrivium 
stuffed and mounted. Looks natural, 
doesn't he? Died long ago. Dangerous 

45 



animal once — son of Cerberus. Come 
on, Conklin." 

"Who comes to this circus?" the lat- 
ter asked. 

"The cruel teazers and all who have 
made a failure out of life on account of 
folly. It is for that reason that we call 
it the Silly Circus. We try to teach 
them something worth while here, so 
that in the future they may know how to 
act more wisely. Our' training is ex- 
tremely scientific. We start them at the 
Kindergarter, and then slide them down 
through the various grades, which are, 
ex ordine: — Prime-Mary; Gran'-ma; 
High-Stool; Prop-school, also called 
Secondary Pap-school; Collar-age; Uni- 
versal Tie; and Semi-Nursery, or Hot- 
bed for Pseudo-Religious Seedlings. 
Their brains fortunately become so soft 
by the time they get to the Collar-age 
that they are then quite easy to handle 
as we wish. 

"Here we are at last in the Kinder- 
garter. Wonderful system! Planned 

46 



by myself! See those boys with pitch- 
forks going around the room? They 
are the ushers and the prodders, part of 
the generation transformed at the begin- 
ning of the world into Shedim, and as 
aides they are invaluable. We use the 
Lilin as teachers throughout the school, 
of whom Gog — that big spirit-devil with 
goggles on his nose — is the master of this 
ward; Ma-gog, his wife, is his assistant 
— see her yonder, with specs, too? 
Some of these goaders are the little 
Goggles. There is nothing like keeping 
the kids busy, is there?" 

For some time they stood and watched 
the fresh souls broken into the traces of 
school life in Hell. Seated at tiny desks, 
all in mighty rows, the wretched spirits 
kept their eyes glued on their teacher, 
who just now was teaching them orthog- 
raphy and pronunciation at once. Their 
hands were folded and placed exactly 
upon the central edge of the desk. 

Gog calls out in an awful voice: 
"C— A— T!!" And then the whole mass 

47 



squeaks out in answer, with thin, piping 
accents: ''C— A— T— Cat!" Nine times 
the process is repeated, and then the 
imps swing their whips about the faces 
and necks of the miserable scholars, that 
dare not shrink from the blows, from 
fear of being sent to the lowest circle, 
but repeat the letters and word faster 
and faster and with more effort, all in 
unison. If one by chance fails to cry in 
exact time with the rest, the scourge 
falls in rapid tempo about his or her 
sensitized temples and cheeks until the 
fault is repaired. It is a gruesome sight, 
and it almost frightens Conklin. 

^^Don't be nervous, my dear friend," 
said Satan, who noticed his perturba- 
tion. "This is mere child's play com- 
pared with our other classes. Do you 
but listen now — this is interesting." 

Gog was lengthening his phrase. 
"Cat-o'-nine-tails!" he spelled out, and 
all repeated it after him with the usual 
accompaniment of blows, which seemed 



48 



to have a life and eagerness of their 
own. 

^^Those scourges are cat-o-nine-tails," 
said the Devil, "which the imps wield. 
It is thus that we exemplify our own 
methods, so that in case any of the 
human souls wish to become imps 
themselves and teach in their turn 
they would know how to proceed with 
their task. Each knot represents a spe- 
cial stage in all schooling. The first is 
Imitation, which is not merely the prime 
incentive but also the major end; Mem- 
ory, without which we could not see 
whether our methods were being effec- 
tive, and Recitation tied together in one 
knot; Knowledge, the store of antiq- 
uities; Vanity, the chief attendant of 
the student; Superficiality, a valuable 
veneer With which to cover sores and 
pimples; Tests, which arouse both fear 
and injustice; Grades, the great level- 
lers; Examinations, the rickety step- 
ladder of advancement; and finally 
Prizes, the pasty gems of scholasticism. 

49 



When put together, the nine knots are 
called classes — whips all ready for use. 
We love them, because they are so effec- 
tive. Hear them? Ha ha!" 

''You have a great organization, 
Devil." 

''Don't we, though? Let me show you 
how well drilled they are." 

Satan made a motion to Gog, who 
immediately ceased shouting. Then he 
snapped his fingers, and lo! they all rose 
as a man; he snapped his tail, and they 
subsided together like so much machin- 
ery. "Great work, boys and girls!" he 
shouted hilariously like a child tickled 
with a toy. "Now I want two or three 
of you to come forward and speak to 
our friend, who has come way from the 
upper world to see you here. You ought 
to feel highly complimented and do 
your work twice as fast when he is gone, 
so that if he should visit you again some 
time you could make a jim-dandy show- 
ing. Willie! Tommy! Jennie!" 

Behold thousands of the wretched 



50 



spirits rose from their seats and started 
to come forward. 

^'O Gosh!'^ cried out Satan in amaze- 
ment. ^^I want only one of you. Come 
here, you little puny ghost near the cor- 
ner, and the rest of you go ahead with 
your studies, and try to do 'two days' 
work in one. Who are you?" 

"I am Tommie!" squeaked the shade, 
shaking in all his loosened joints from 
terror. 

"What else are you?" 

"I am a fool!" 

"I should say that you were, and I 
am glad that you recognize it, for it is 
the first step toward wisdom. Why did 
you come here?" 

"Because I used to play cards with 
the boys and drink champagne with the 
girls!" 

"I should say you did! You had bet- 
ter read some of Ben-Cyrac's books 
when you get time. Now go back to 
your seat and behave yourself!" 

The spirit returned to his place shak- 

51 



ing as if he had the ague, and soon he 
was reciting his lessons with the rest. 

^'He does not seem to have any origin- 
ality!" exclaimed Conklin in surprise. 

''Of course he doesn't. What do you 
think the modern method tries to do — 
create idiots for the lunatic asylums? I 
am afraid that you have not acquired 
the great principles of modern edu- 
cators. What we are all after at present 
is to make a child a good social unit — 
fit him in, like a pebble on the beach; 
when he has original corners that cause 
him to be a little different from the rest, 
we have to smooth him off rather 
roughly. Individualism can not — must 
not exist — in the society of tomorrow." 

"Ah, yes! Then that modern Italian 
method of Kindergarter training — is it 
not recognized as being a splendid sys- 
tem?" 

"Yes, although that kills individual- 
ism as high as the garter, and no more. 
It fits right in with our ideals, never 
fear. I helped invent the system one 

52 



day when I was in Rome. The beauty 
of it is that the child is always in a class, 
and can not get away from it. Did you 
ever see a rain-storm?" 

"Of course — I have watched hundreds 
of them." 

"Were you ever able to tell one drop 
from another? No? And yet each one 
fell just as it pleased, did it not? Ha 
ha! Didn't I tell you? It's time to be 
going now, Mr. Conklin, to the next 
room. Should you like to visit the 
Gran'ma department, or skip to the 
High-Stool?" 

"If you have no objections, I would 
rather skip to the High-Stool. Is there 
anything of especial interest to be seen 
in the Gran'ma department?" 

"Oh it is very similar to the Kinder- 
garter, except that they begin a great 
variety of subjects — thousands of them. 
We are increasing the number of studies 
every day, since we find that they can 
contain in their hollow brains all that 

53 



we desire to shove in. Variety is the 
spice of life, you know. Let's skip." 

So together they left the initiatory 
place of torture, arm in arm like old- 
time friends; and before long they 
reached their destination. There seemed 
to Conklin to be unusual excitement in 
the air. 

^^Nothing extraordinary," Satan an- 
swered to his questions. "There is 
always an air of excitement about the 
place. The scholars are just coming to 
the point where they appreciate knowl- 
edge as an absolute science, as an end in 
itself, and naturally they are enthusias- 
tic about it; it makes our work easier. 
Then again, they know that what they 
do here is commanded from above — I 
mean from the Collar-ages, to be sure; 
and besides is closely related to the 
accomplishments of the Pap-schools, 
which they are all fond of. Nihil nisi 
de Collar-age is their motto. Too, many 
of them are looking ahead to the time 
when they may wear the Universal-ties, 

54 



and thus bear a still more striking resem- 
blance to each other, not only in face 
and manner and language, but in dress. 
Alike, we like is their slogan." 

James Conklin was a bit surprised to 
discover how similar the great High- 
Stool was to the Kindergarter. Never- 
theless, there was this great difference: 
the imps swung their knouts with more 
violence and cruelty; and, furthermore, 
some of the pupils, instead of reciting 
their lessons aloud at the top of their 
poor, thin voices, were writing with 
great rapidity. Sheda, the master, dex- 
terously waved his wand of authority, 
thus commanding a chorus of open 
throats, which, although they did their 
best, uttered but a plaintive cry. Even 
the sudden appearance of Satan with his 
living comrade did not interrupt them 
for a single second, but their knees 
trembled under the desks, and the hands 
of the writers shook so violently that 
scrawls instead of letters were fashioned 
upon the inscription sheets. 

55 



Then Satan made his signs to Sheda 
and to the students, who stopped short, 
rose and sat together. It was a wonder- 
ful manifestation of superior discipline. 

James Conklin seemed to be strangely 
affected by the marvelous spectacle. He 
clasped his temples with his hands and 
uttered a loud cry of distress. 

^What is the matter with you, my 
dear fellow?" cried the Devil in much 
alarm. "If anything should happen to 
you down here I would never forgive 
myself!" 

Amid the curious gaze from thou- 
sands and thousands of eyes, Conklin 
turned slowly to the Devil, allowed his 
arms to fall to his side, and said in a 
hoarse whisper: 

"A thought just came to me! It is not 
on account of man's education that he is 
imitative and superficial — it is because 
he is imitative and superficial that he 
has such an education!" 

The numberless eyes became sad. 
Sheda bit his lip. Satan shook his head 

56 



and laughed. "Is that all you have, 
Conklin? I could have told you that 
hundreds of years ago. Did you never 
travel in the forests of Brazil? or watch 
the monkeys at the zoo? Poor man! 
Will you have some more lozenges? 
Are you cold? Forget your thoughts, 
man, and be cheerful — join the recita- 
tion — swear — anything! Let us be en- 
tertained, Sheda! Have you any bril- 
liant scholars?" 

"Thousands of them, sir," replied the 
worthy pedagogue unhesitatingly. "Ad- 
die, come forward and tell our honor- 
able guests what you know. The rest of 
you go on with your work — ^we have 
still five thousand pages to cover before 
night." 

The spirit called Addie approached 
bashfully the king of corrections, and 
gave a pretty courtesy. Evidently she 
had been no chicken upon the earth, for 
she was no longer a girl. 

"Who are you, anyway?" demanded 
Satan in a roiigh voice. 

57 



"I — I don't — know, sir," she stam- 
mered. 

^^Except that you are Addie. Well, 
that is enough. What are you here for?" 

^To study, sir." 

^^To be sure; and I hope you do it 
well. I meant rather, for what reason 
were you sent here? Naturally you are 
a nonentity in this — hem — ha — hm — 
devilish brigade. Try to put yourself 
back on earth where you were some- 
thing, at least a nonsentity." 

"Ah! yes, now I remember: I dwelt 
in the outskirts of Ne Ork; my name 
was Mrs. Flyahy; I was a rich woman; 
I used to play Bridge-Whist for coin." 

"Exactly. Oh, I know you well, 
Addie. More than one piteous wretch 
you tempted into infernity. You were 
a lewd prude; a pickled prune; stewed 
most of the time. Now go ahead and 
tell us what you have learned down 
here." 

"Gosh, Mr. Satan, that would take 
forever!" 

58 



^^Well, begin." 

''Abcdefghi — 2x2 are 4, 2x3 are 6, 
2x4 are 8 — a+b=x — pronouns have in- 
flections of gender to designate — vapor 
is condensed by the cooling of the — the 
angle of refraction is equal to — hug- 
ging your opponent is a foul — one foul 
thrown into the basket counts one — CH3 
CO2 C2 H5 + H2 0=C2 H5 O H + CH3 
CO2 H — add one teaspoon soda, one 
half teaspoon cream o' tartar and — al- 
truism is the action of human sympathy 
upon the cold stones — Tennyson scrib- 
bled the Princess — the quality of mercy 
is not strained but — ich bin, du bist, er 
ist — ich weiss nicht was soil es bedeuten 
dass ich so traurig coalbin — oui, oui, 
monsieur, je suis tres heureuse de vous 
voir, mais vous etes un vrai diable — 
George Washington was born the — the 
Presidents were — the boy stood on the 
burning deck — tra la la yod'el!! — " 

''Stop, for grandma's sake, stop. Ad- 
die! Did they teach you all that here?" 

'Tes, sir." 

59 



a- 



'Very good. That's excellent. Now 
go back to your seat and do your work 
like a good girl. Trot! It must have 
been a severe task for her, Mr. Conklin, 
and I almost pity her. You know, she 
used to be so stout — perhaps you saw 
the shadow of her form? And fat 
people find it very hard to memorize, 
you know. But patience and obedience 
will accomplish miracles. Don't you 
think that the future generations will be 
very bright? I think so, if what Addie 
recited to us so nicely is indicative of 
the general preparation. And her man- 
ners were so good, too! But they may 
have been a relic of her past life, of 
course. We are planning great things, 
great things, Mr. Conklin. Would you 
care to go next to the Collar-age?" 

Conklin shook his head sadly. 

^'No? Why, my dear man, you do 
not appear to be very enthusiastic. Are 
you not well? Would you like another 
lozenge? Another coat of asbestos 
paint? I guess Addie surprised you 

60 



some, ha ha! That's it, Mr. Conklin. 
You'll be all right before long — you'll 
forget her, and then there will be some 
one else, and so on. I don't blame you 
— she was a fine-looking girl. Well, to 
tell the truth, you would find the Collar- 
age and the Universal-tie more or less 
of a continuation of this; and in the 
Seedling Home for Nurselings they do 
mostly reading which might not interest 
you very much. We'll cross over to the 
Experimental Station, where our psy- 
chologists look over the brains of those 
who are affected deleteriously by our 
training, or who came to us in bad con- 
dition, mostly the latter — hm! This 
way, please." 

Satan took his friend's arm in order 
to give him a little support and to cheer 
him up. They went upstairs by means 
of a moving escalator and into a large 
room shaped liked a clinics' hospital. 
Hundreds and thousands of shades sat 
around the central platform in an 
amphitheater. At the bottom the experi- 

6z 



ments were made on subjects chosen by 
lot from the group, while all the rest 
watched in the hope of learning some- 
thing, for Satan allowed no one to be 
idle or to do anything by themselves. 
They approached the clinic. 

Several shades, who were the experi- 
menters themselves, with enormous 
heads and squinting, shifty eyes, were 
cutting and probing the heads of their 
subjects by means of various strange 
instruments. 

"Whing he la tum tum nut ty bdl- 
lyfph grrrumnia pathka bing!" one of 
them, who seemed to be the chief oper- 
ator, shouted excitedly. 

''Did you hear that?" cried Satan. 
"He is on the eve of a wonderful dis- 
covery! He says that he has found by 
measuring the forward antennas of the 
second cell of the occipital lobe that the 
angle computed two weeks ago was 
wrong. Soon they will have discovered 
the laws and movements of human 



62 



nature!" and he rubbed his hands with 
glee. 

"Why is it that everything looks so 
much out of proportion here, so very 
large?" James Conklin asked. 

"It is because in order to see better 
and to make a better showing they have 
greatly magnified this science and its 
subjects. Oh, they know how to do it — 
they are shrewd men." 

"I feel dizzy, Mr. Satan," said Con- 
klin. 

"Do you really? I am afraid that 
our wonderful learning has been too 
much for you. But you must not try to 
absorb it all at once, my dear man. 
Some people, with very large back- 
heads too, have studied for years and 
years without exhausting all the mate- 
rial offered them. So do not be discour- 
aged. Shall we go?" 

"Just as you say," answered Conklin. 

When they had arrived again at the 
pretty park, Satan pointed out a bench 
underneath a tree. 

63 



"I am going to let you have a little 
rest before adventuring into the next 
circle. Lie down on the bench and 
sleep. There are no policemen here, so 
don't worry about your sole — no body 
will trouble it. I am going down to see 
my Cleopatra. Ta ta!" 



64 



CHAPTER IV 

Circus Glacialis 

"LJELL-O!" cried Satan, who had re- 
turned, depositing a huge bundle 
on the bench where he had left Conklin. 
^'Hell — o — o! Where in — hell — o — o! 
Where are you, James Conklin?" 

"Over this way, Devil, behind the 
trees! Come quick!" he heard shouted 
from a throat that still retained some 
huskiness of earthly life. "Come quick!" 

Satan hurried through the bushes. 
He wondered what could have hap- 
pened to his visitor, for whose soul he 
was now responsible, and he trembled 
from head to foot. 

"I got you that time! Keep quiet, 
won't you?" came to his ears. "This 
way, Devil!" 

When Satan cleared the last bush 
with his cloven leaps, he saw Conklin 

65 



leaning over two prostrate spirits, which 
he was holding down by means of a 
pitchfork stuck in the ground so as to 
enclose them and bind them tightly. 
They were struggling hard in vain ef- 
forts to get away from their captor; 
but when they caught sight of Satan, 
they desisted, and lay still as in death. 

'What in the deuce have you got here, 
my friend?" demanded Satan with an 
amused smile. "Been hunting?" 

Conklin stood up, but he clung to the 
fork. His face was very red. "Fm 
glad you came, Devil," he said, wiping 
the perspiration from his brow. "I was 
having an awful time trying to hold 
them. You see, I lay down on the bench 
and had a nice little nap after you went 
away. When I woke up, I started out 
to reconnoiter a bit around the park, 
because everything looked so fresh and 
beautiful. I was having a bully time 
feeding nuts to the squirrels, when sud- 
denly I ran across this spirit here" — 
pointing to his captives — "leaning up 



66 



against a tree with something in his 
hand. As soon as he sees me he jumps 
up and aims the thing at me. I was 
afraid, and I hollered and ran. I must 
have started up this little imp'' — with 
another gesture toward the pile — "be- 
cause he came sneaking around the 
corner with this pitchfork in his hand, 
and when he saw the spirit he made a 
bee line for him and began to maul him 
terribly. That was more than I could 
stand, so I sailed in and caught them 
both. There they are — who are they?" 

Satan laughed and laughed until he 
doubled over; and still he laughed. 
"P-p-pard-on m-me!" he exclaimed at 
last. '^It is so funny! You have caught 
both the truant and the truant-officer!" 
And he laughed again. 

Conklin smiled sheepishly and let go 
the fork. "Do you mean that this spirit 
has run away from school?" he asked. 

"Exactly, sir. He probably escaped 
from the building and was reading a 
book in the shade. There it is now by 

67 



the tree-trunk. Pick it up and let's see 
what it is." 

Conklin picked it up gingerly. "By 
jingo, it was not a gun after all!" he 
exclaimed, turning red from embarrass- 
ment. " 'The Psychology of Religious 
Experience,' by Ames — of all things!" 

'^That's harmless, although it does 
look dangerous," said Satan. "Take the 
pitchfork away, and let us see whom we 
have here, if you please. Brother." 

The latter did as he was requested; 
and the two spirits, one human and the 
other demon, after kicking convulsively 
two or three times, rose to their feet. 

"Go home to your father, Beelzie," 
the archfiend commanded, "and tell him 
to give you ten credits and a stick of 
arsenic to suck. You are a good boy. 
You will pardon Mr. Conklin, because 
he is a visitor of honor, and besides he 
didn't know what was up. Run! Now, 
who are you, my man?" turning angrily 
to the other. 

"My norrif eet ees Tommee Hunterr!" 



68 



answered the ghost very decisively, with 
a strong French accent. 

"Come out of it!" shouted Satan. 
"Don't you know who I am? Don't you 
know me well enough by this time, old 
plutocrat, to know that I know who you 
are? I knew you before you came down 
here even. For a long time I had my 
eyes on you. Next day you play hookie, 
I'll send you down to the Cercle d'Hor- 
reurs, Jean Calvin!" 

Conklin stared. In spite of his re- 
markable self-control, his eyes actually 
stuck out of his head. 

The spirit, which had at first made 
an attempt to conceal his features with 
his arm, not realizing that he was now 
but a shadow of his real self, burst into 
sobs, and rubbed his dry eyes with his 
hollow fists. "Fll be good!" he blurted 
out hysterically, falling upon his knees 
before the master of corrections. 

"You had better plead for mercy, old 
hypocritical teazer," Satan said harshly. 
"To tell the truth, I don't like to grant 

69 



it to you, because you showed so little 
when you were the cock of the walk in 
Geneva and murdered your friends; but 
for the sake of example, this time I will. 
Stand up and behave like a man. Now 
tell us how you got out, and where you 
found this trash." 

Jean twitched his great nose nervously 
several times, and then cleared his throat 
for his story. 

"You see, Satan, Sir, that I found it 
very monotonous in the psychology class. 
I could hardly understand what the 
experimenters were driving at. My 
own systems are easier. Sir. Finally 
they got hold of me in spite of my 
remonstrances. Sir, and analysed my 
head. They argued and poked about 
for a horribly long time, and the pain 
they gave me was excruciating. They 
claimed that I was suffering from an 
abnormal disease which they styled 
Semicosis of the Functional Apparatus 
of the Subliminal Self. When they fin- 
ished with me at last and sent me to my 

70 



seat, Sir, I took an opportunity to seize 
this book, which one of the professors 
reads in order to clarify his thoughts, 
and slip out through the door while they 
were quarrelling about somebody's facial 
angle. As it happened the fates were 
spinning yarns so fast that they didn't 
see my shadow as I went by them; and 
the furies were pulling each other's hair. 
And then — " 

"I know, I know, Jean. You sat down 
in the shade of the old apple-tree read- 
ing that shady book. It's a bad business 
for a shade of your ecclesiastical connec- 
tions. I am mighty glad that Mr. Con- 
klin caught you, but I am sorry he saved 
you from a severe whipping. Next 
time, as I intimated, it will be different. 
Go back to your room, and take back 
that novel to its owner. By the way, 
how far did you get?" 

'^Only as far as the curses on page 
145, sir." 

"That is plenty far enough. Don't 
forget my words. Go. I hope you won't 

71 



think that this is an example of our 
regular school discipline, Mr. Conklin," 
Satan, when Calvin was out of sight, 
continued, nursing his lips with his tail. 
"It doesn't happen in a dog's age. How- 
ever, I know that you have some com- 
mon-sense and do not judge by appear- 
ances only. What do you think of our 
truant?" 

"Fd rather not tell you, Mr. Angel. 
How did he happen to be in the school? 
He did not ruin his life by folly, did 
he?" 

"No. He is a regular attendant of 
the upper department of our institution, 
the Circus Maximus, which you have 
already seen. He was a hypocrite. The 
experimenters asked for him, because 
they wished to measure the smallness of 
his mind and the magnitude of his Ego. 
Famous characters like him are in great 
demand, don't you know, because when 
their names are attached to statements 
everybody accepts them without a ques- 
tion. He founded a theological club 



upstairs, which I allow to hold meetings 
just before some important event is 
pulled off: it arouses them to battle. 
Jean is the president, of course, and I 
myself am the 'z;/c^-president. Some of 
our alienists have expressed the opinion 
that he is unbalanced mentally, prob- 
ably because of the size of his nose, 
which pulls him forward. However, I 
am better acquainted with him than 
they, in spite of their examinations. I 
know well what ails him: a disease 
which usually has a congenital origin. 
Ego Maximus/Ego major, some call it, 
but his is bigger than that. If he does 
not improve, we'll cast him down. Are 
you ready to go?" 

"Just as you say, doctor.'' 

"Here are a couple of fur coats that 
Cleopatra sent to you with her compli- 
ments: she never uses them. You will 
need them all right in the next circle. 
Here are some skates besides. You 
skate, do you not?" 



73 



'^Surely. But isn't it a bit dangerous 
skating with you, Satan?" 

^'Not at all. You are an honored guest, 
and you are just as safe in Hell as at 
home with your wife. Pardon me for 
keeping five of these coats myself — some- 
how I always feel cold, except when I am 
with Cleo. That's right, ring five times. 
Lucky again! The old boy happened 
to be right here. Step in — lively, 
please!" 

Charon banged the door and opened 
wide the throttle. The car dropped like 
a comet. Conklin's stomach shot up 
against his throat and stuck there. 
^^God!" he muttered to himself as he sank 
weakly upon the plush seat, "I thought 
for the moment I was in Ne Ork!" 

"Shall I rub your solar plexus, sir?" 
asked Charron with a grin. 

'^Mind your business!" cried Satan. 
"Who gave you leave to speak? Do you 
think you can take liberties with me 
simply because I am pleasant to you 
once in a while? I like not your portal 

74 



vein of humor. I reckon we'll have to 
find a place in the Circus Horribilimus 
for you." 

The pallor departed from Charon's 
cheeks, leaving them like v^ithered 
apples bitten by the frost. He turned 
to his lever, on which he leaned for sup- 
port in place of his shaking knees; nor 
did he venture another word. 

They came finally to a beautiful stop 
at the third floor; and Charon opened 
the 'elevator door with a profound 
salaam. An icy chillness pervaded the 
atmosphere, making the inspectors shiver 
and shake, especially Satan, who trem- 
bled violently in spite of the half-dozen 
heavy furcoats and high cap which he 
had put on during the descent. Never- 
theless, he assumed a cheerful counte- 
nance, as was his wont even when in 
difficulties, and remarked to his human 
companion that they would warm up 
quickly on the ice. 

"Let me attach your skates for you," 



75 



said the Devil with chattering teeth, 
stooping to honor James. 

"No thanks!" the latter answered 
curtly. "I prefer not to have you tam- 
pering with my sole. Do you put on 
your own, and I'll adjust mine myself. 
You might tell me what we are to see 
here, and who are committed to this 
frigid region, and why." 

The chief made answer thus: "The 
Circus Glacialis is considered by some, 
among whom are the inhabitants them- 
selves, to be the most severe place of 
punishment of all. However that may 
be — I myself know that there are other 
much more terrible tortures, it is not so 
much for the punishment, which is being 
recognized more and more by civilized 
people as a mere relic of barbarism, as 
it is for the antiseptic properties of the 
ice that they are relegated hither, and 
of course as a warning and example to 
other beings. Punishment has no value 
except as a preventative, and vengeance 
simply as a means of personal satisfac- 

78 



tion is now obsolete. But come, let us 
hasten to get exercise, else I shall perish 
from the cold. I will talk better as I 
become warm." 

They were on the edge of a wide bay. 
Behind them towered the 'elevator w^all, 
dark and gloomy. Before them the out- 
look was even more melancholy, because 
of a lowering haze that hung over the 
vast expanse of black ice. No spirits 
were in sight — nothing but bleakness. 

Arm in arm the two skaters circled 
the bay, according to Satan's directions. 
At the end of an hour the Demon, hav- 
ing forced his venous blood into circula- 
tion, laughed off his last spasm of ague 
and resumed his narration. 

''This little inlet is my own private 
preserve. Once in a great while I come 
here to reflect on the ice when things 
are going wrong, or to cut a few fancy 
figures when everything is bright and 
gay. I should not have minded the cold 
so much had I not stayed so long with 
Cleopatra; but I am feeling better now. 

77 



"There are no souls here, as you can 
see. I would not have them anywhere 
near the 'elevator for fear of contami- 
nation ; but out in the great lake they are 
thick enough, too numerous, indeed. 
Most of them are imbedded in the ice 
anywhere from five to five thousand feet 
down, although a few are left with their 
heads emerging. Hell-divers is the 
name Charon invented for these poor 
devils. He hates like Hell to bring 
them down, and I don't blame him. He 
kicked on the first load, and I had to 
threaten him with the lowest circle 
before he would get in the 'elevator with 
them. He has pleaded with me to freeze 
them up in cakes of ice before bringing 
them down, and I don't know but what 
that is an excellent idea. 

"Here come those spirits that wittingly 
transmitted venereal diseases to other 
people, whether to strangers, friends. 
Mammon-companions, servants, wives, 
husbands, or children. Those who with 
knowledge of their conditon contami- 

78 



nated offspring are sensitized a hundred- 
fold before receiving their icy entomb- 
ment, and grippe-germs are pumped into 
their throats. Adulterers come here 
too — those that caused injury to others, 
whether by tempting maliciously some 
one to be a paramour, or by arousing 
jealousy, or by breaking up the purity 
and harmony of a family, or by blacken- 
ing a reputation which otherwise might 
have remained clean, or by lowering 
another's moral sense and social ideals. 
To these we give a sensibility fifty times 
that of an ordinary living person suffer- 
ing from the Grippe, before immersing 
them. 

^'Still other spirits find their way 
hither: the inhabitants of Sodom and 
Gomorrah together with all their imi- 
tators; male spirits who seduced young 
girls and brought ruin on their heads; 
females who helped to injure the reputa- 
tion of stumbling members of their own 
sex, pushing them down with gossip; 
females who tried to seduce ministers 

79 



and young men of good morals; shame- 
less fornicators who knew better; and 
the whole tribe of grossly immoral men 
and women who clung to vice through 
their own choice. They all are sensi- 
tized. 

^^If any are so saturated with vice that 
even the ice will not suffice to purify 
them, or if they have committed horrible 
crimes in addition to their carnal self- 
indulgence, they are cast at once without 
mercy into the Circus Horribilimus; 
and, if there they still persist in being 
shameless, they may never be heard of 



more." 



By this time Satan and James Conklin 
were skating with long strokes out into 
the great lake of purification. On every 
side hovered the hellish gray mist, which 
prevented them from seeing far ahead 
— Conklin, at least. 

^^Are we in no danger of running into 
something?" he asked. 

"Nothing that can hurt you," answered 
Satan, who now carried his companion 

80 



along at high speed, curving majestically 
now to the left now to the right. '*As it 
sometimes happens, a head sticks up out 
of the ice here and there; and, if we hit 
it, our skates cut right through. The 
only danger is that some of these spirits, 
who have had time to themselves for 
reflection, may have something heavy on 
their minds, which are otherwise hol- 
low, and so we might possibly get a bad 
fall. That is why our skates are fash- 
ioned with such large, high curls in 
front, and we go so fast. A man's mind 
can not withstand such great speed, you 
know. Of course it hurts the souls hor- 
ribly whenever they do get hit, but such 
is their fate. I hope that today we hit 



no—" 



He was interrupted by a sudden jar, 
which shook his frame and was trans- 
mitted to Conklin through his arm. 
Then Conklin himself stumbled, and 
would have fallen had not Satan held 
him up with a firm grip. 

*^Hold on!'' cried the Unholy one. 

8z 



^^That was a terrific blow. Somebody 
got it in the neck! Wonder who it was? 
Two of them, too, right near together. 
Let's turn and ga back." 

They swung around to the right under 
Satan's guidance, and soon they arrived 
at the scene of the accident. They heard 
groans, dreadful groans, issuing appar- 
ently at first, from the ice itself. 

"What do you mean by attempting to 
stop us on our journey?" the Wicked 
Skater cried in an angry voice. "Who 
are you, anyway?" 

Conklin took out his ear-plugs in 
order to hear everything that might be 
said. For a while moans of pain and 
the chattering of teeth was all he heard, 
but soon a faint voice began to speak, 
and then he distinguished the head of a 
soul, whose black hair and black beard 
afforded no contrast to the black ice. 
Its nose was like a beak, long and cruel ; 
and its face, which had been distorted 
by years of vice, writhed and twisted 
from pain. 



82 



"I am the shade of the wicked Gib- 
eon," the panting voice said, "Gibeon 
of Gibeah. My comrade, who is fas- 
tened in the ice just within sight, is 
Benbenjah, my cousin. We lived lives 
of evil. One day a stranger, a certain 
Levite who sojourned on the top of 
mount Ephim, came to Gibeah and ob- 
tained lodging for the night at the home 
of an old man. We and other Gibeah- 
nites injured the stranger and his con- 
cubine, leaving her dead at his door. 
Oh-o-o-o-o-o-h!" 

Satan shuddered and dragged Con- 
klin away rudely. "Let's get out of this 
quick!" he said, "this is too much for 



me." 



For some time neither of them spoke. 
"Why don't you send those wretches 
down to the Horrible Hole and be done 
with them, Satan?" demanded Conklin 
with an efifort, his voice hoarse and 
husky. 

"You don't understand," responded 
the Prince of Darkness gently. "They 

83 



did not have the light that we have 
now." After a long pause he continued, 
wishing to turn Conklin's mind into 
other channels of thought: 

"Do you see the skate-marks all over 
the ice here? Those were made by our 
imps whose business it is to inspect the 
ice and its victims, and to attend to the 
ammonia evaporators, which need much 
care because they are so large. Mam- 
mon, who is especially interested in Ne 
Ork Sity, wanted me to have them 
manufactured there, on account of its 
being the most populous area for its size 
in the land; but I was afraid that the 
tremendous amount of corruption there 
might affect the parts of the evaporators 
and make them quickly rot; Beliar 
asked to have them ordered from Karl 
Snobs of Beslehems, probably because 
of a personal interest, although Beliar 
said ^because he makes his men work 
like heir ; but I objected to the religious 
connotations of the name, and therefore 

84 



I got them from Bittspurg, the city of 
holy smoke. 

"I heard a good story about Bittspurg 
one day, Mr. Conklin. I went to Filly 
D'el-fear in the summer to visit a cer- 
tain lady. I found her engaged in a 
conversation with a friend from Bitts- 
purg. It was awfully hot there, and I 
don't blame the Filly D'el-fear lady for 
saying what she did. She said, ^Isn't it 
Just hot as Hell, yet!' Then they both 
laughed, and the Filly D'el-fear lady 
sort of apologized for her language, 
saying that her friend probably didn't 
know anything about that place. Of 
course I chuckled to myself, because I 
knew them both well! But I kept as 
still as a mouse; and I heard the visitor 
say: ^My stars and garters! Surely I 
know all about it — why, I live there!' 
^Live there?' the fat Filly D'el-fearian 
asked rather surprised. Was meinst 
du, py donders?' ^Yes, indeedee,' the 
visitor said, *I live in Bittspurg!' You 

85 



should have seen the expression on the 
fat lady's face! 

"As I was saying, the imps cut around 
here pretty lively sometimes, but I am 
glad to see them enjoy themselves, for 
we keep them working hard most of 
the time. We have no labor unions 
here. You would be surprised by the 
way the little devils can go without 
coats and still not seem to mind the cold! 
Just now they are at work on the evapo- 
rators at the other end of the pond, and 
as it is very far we shall not go way 
over there unless you are particularly 
desirous of examining the apparatus." 

"No,'' Conklin answered, "I am not 
a boiler maker or an ice-cream freezer, 
and there are other things in which I 
am more interested — the human soul, 
for example. I can see plenty of 
machinery on the top of the earth, and 
altogether too much, sometimes." 

"Should you care to have me dig out 
a poor ghost from his icy shroud with 
our steam drill? There might be an- 

86 



other carnisensual of whom you have 
heard and would like to see." 

"No," said Conklin again, with a deci- 
sive shake of his head. "I have beheld 
already a great sufficiency. Take me 
away." 

Satan smiled to himself, and turned 
about after a long sweep. They took off 
their skates at the edge of the bay and 
examined the blades carefully. 

"Hell-o!" said Old Harry with a 
whistle. "A large nick in mine and 
another in yours. Phew! I thought 
those fellows had something heavy on 
their minds. It must have torn them up 
some. Well, it doesn't pay to interfere 
with the old Nick!" 



»7 



CHAPTER V 

Circus Pluvialis 

f T was not long before they were in 
the 'elevator, going down once more. 
Conklin came nearer fainting this trip 
than the last, because of both the speed, 
which seemed even more terrible than 
before, and the heat, which brought out 
the perspiration from every pore. 

"Poor fellow!" said Satan, leaning 
over him anxiously. Conklin thought 
it strange that the Devil should have so 
much sympathy, and asked him point- 
blank how it happened. 

"Shoot!" the latter exclaimed. Cha- 
ron, who had started to snooze over his 
lever, upon hearing his master's exclam- 
ation started to turn on the triple- 
expansion, and he might have succeeded 
in snuffing out Conklin's life like a 
candle-light had not Satan perceived 

88 



his motion and caught him quickly by 
the arm, and warned him in a kindly 
manner to go gently. "It was but a 
vocal gesture interpreting my individual 
reaction to Brother Conklin's inquisitive 
interrogation," he said to Charon. "Yes, 
James, that is the way I feel when any- 
one begins to talk about sympathy. 
Surely some men exist who have that 
blessed quality, but they are few and far 
between; and the funniest thing is that, 
although a woman manufactured under 
the usual recipe generally has a thou- 
sand times as much sympathy to spend 
on a nice-looking, vigorous man than 
man himself, nevertheless when it comes 
to woman she is ready to cut and slash 
like a butcher his meat. Possibly the 
sex principle working inside of them 
turns sour and drives them, both man 
and woman, to be nasty to their rival 
brothers and sisters. I am an optimist, 
however. Brother Conklin, and I hope 
for the best in the future." 

"Fourth floor, going down!" Charon 
cried. 89 



"No hurry, old buoy. We'll take our 
time today if never again. I remarked, 
sir, that in the future men may learn to 
see what is good for them. As things 
are now, I prefer to dwell in Hell. 
I've often been in a so-called Christian 
Theological Cemetery that seemed like 
an ice-box through the cold corridors 
of which frozen meat walked up and 
down. Never mind — lots of places in 
the world are not so bad as they appear, 
and a few even have a little sunshine; 
and if you don't enjoy one place, try 
another. Legs were intended for loco- 
motion. Tramps have the right idea, 
only that they lean too far from the 
social bias. However, can you blame 
them? They know that the city is a bad 
place for family life, that the petticoats 
of a city are filled with empty super- 
ficialities, and that the country is agree- 
able only when it is kept moving. Every 
time I walk along a residential street I 
think I see myself grinning at me from 
the windows. I prefer the Great White 

go 



Way, where everything is open and 
above board." 

"Last call!" shouted Charon, who 
had become imp-atient — there were so 
many souls waiting at the top to be 
brought down. 

"I trust you get my point," Satan said 
to Conklin. "Put on your wraps, for 
you'll find them necessary; and take 
that umbrella Charon put in the corner 
for you. I would have brought rubber- 
boots, but their soles would not last long. 
If you get wet, you'll have a chance to 
dry out in one of the lower circles." 
While talking he himself resumed the 
five or six coats which he had thrown 
aside in the 'elevator, and took an um- 
brella for his own use. "If there's any- 
thing I object to it's getting wet." 

Already they could hear the rain fall- 
ing. "Where does it all come from?" 
Conklin asked. 

"From the story above. The ice melts 
pretty rapidly, and we let the liquid 
drop through little holes in the ceiling. 



91 



which is miles farther up than you can 



see." 



^^Haiir 

"No, nothing but ice-water, though it 
drops like hail, to tell the truth." 

"How did Charon know enough to 
bring the umbrellas, Satan? They were 
not in the 'elevator before." 

"I sent him a message by wireless 
telepathy, which is a very convenient 
mode of transcommunication. By means 
of it I keep in touch with thousands of 
up-to-date persons on the earth who 
otherwise would find it difficult to get 
me. For example, the other day a 
woman telephammed me a night-mes- 
sage — ^Shall I go or not?' She could 
have sent a longer message at the same 
rate, but for the very eloquence of her 
laconic style I admired her — I am sick 
of talking to women, and I hate to have 
business relations with them as a usual 
thing. So I telepathed back — ^Go.' 
ril be looking for her soul before long. 

92 



What are you laughing at, Mr. Con- 
klin?" 

"Ha! ha! they are so funny — those 
souls hopping around in the grass — ha! 
ha!" 

"You would not laugh if you were in 
their place, my dear man. They are in 
agony. The chilling j-ain beats down 
upon them and racks their nervous sys- 
tem from end to end, for, being but 
shades, their hollow hide is no protec- 
tion to them. They leap and hop in 
frantic endeavor to escape from one 
bucketful, only to run head first into 
another. Nevertheless, they receive this 
blessing from it: the wicked thoughts 
are beaten out of their heads as fast as 
they come, until finally, after many 
years — hundreds, yea, even thousands, 
the good thoughts have a chance to 
grow, since the water cannot hurt them/' 

"Who come to this rainy region, and 
why?" 

"Souls that threw cold water on others 
when they were alive, or wished them 

93 



bad luck. Now they receive fine oppor- 
tunities for tasting their own bitter 
medicine. It is amusing to watch them 
hop and skip, Conkiin, although I be- 
come vexed for the moment whenever 
anybody else makes fun of them for 
their antics. Let us summon one of 
them hither and question him." 

No sooner had he spoken the words 
than a little, weazened, razor-faced 
spirit turned around and hastened up to 
them. He presented a pitiable spec- 
tacle as he shivered and shook from the 
cold. 

"Who in hell are you?" demanded 
Satan gruffly. 

"I-I am-m-m-m on-n-n-ne in-n-n-n 
th-th-thousan-nd-ds-s-s," the wretched 
devil tried to say through the shades of 
his chattering teeth. "Wh-wh-wh-e-en- 
n-n-nnn ^I-I-I cc-c-c-aa-a-a-a-mmm-m- 
m-me here, y-y-ou-u ttt-t-too-oo-kkk-kk- 
kkk-k aww-wway mm-m-my nn-n-na-a- 
m-mm-me!" 

"I should think I did," replied the 

94 



Devil grimly. "Do you suppose for an 
instant that I would let such a miserable 
specimen of humanity as you are have 
any personality down here with us?" 

"Nn-n-n-n-nn-o-o-o-o, ssssir." 

"You have learned some sense since 
you arrived, at least. How do you like 
it here, my man?" 

"I-i-i-ttt is-s-s-s ccc-cc-ccc-o-ol-l-l-l-d- 
d-dd as-s-s-s h-hel-1!" 

"Now, youVe talking," said Satan, 
rubbing his hands together with what 
seemed to Conklin very much like glee. 
"YouVe a college man, are you not?" 

"Y-y-y-e-s-s-sss sss-s-s-i-rrr-r. I-I-I 
am-m-m-mmm a-a-a D-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-" 

"Never mind that. I don't give a 
continental which one — thev are all 
alike; and I don't enjoy standing here 
in the cold rain talking to such as you, 
either. Hop along beside us as we walk 
over to Refrigerator Pool, and shiver if 
you have to, but for the land's sake tell 
us what you know in a hurry and be 
done with it. You threw cold water on 

95 



your class-mates who were earnest men 
and wanted to do something for them- 
selves and the world in general, did you 
not?" 

^T-y-e-ss, D-d-d-d-d-d-d-" 

'^Call me Satan." 

"Y-y-e-ss, Ssss-s-s-a-a-tt-t-a-a-nnn-n-nn- 
n, a-n-n-d-ddd-d on-n-n evv-v-err-y-y- 
bbbb-bb-bodddd-d-dy-y el-1-l-ssssse !" 

"Warm up and hold your tongue to- 
gether for a minute. Go get some of 
your college mates and give us the y'ell 
we taught you." 

The ghost shivered off through the 
icy shower and returned presently with 
quite a band of insignificant-looking 
ghosts. The first one drew them up 
proudly in a bunch, and then waved his 
arms three times. "One! two! three!" 
he shouted, forgetting to stammer in his 
excitement. "Learn from us! Learn 
from us! Learn from us!" they all 
hollered together, with squeaking spirit 
voices; but they did make quite a noise. 

"That's good!" said Satan approv- 

96 



ingly. They all smiled through their 
shakes. 

^'Now let's have the one you brought 
with you." They hummed together in 
order to get the right pitch, and then 
they burst forth proudly: 

"Hail, hail, the gang's all here. What 
in hail do we care? What in hail do 
we care? Hail, hail, the gang's all here. 
What in hail do we care now?" 

"Magnificent!" exclaimed the Devil. 
"You are improving wonderfully. Now 
run over to the park and play. I wish 
you well in all your enterprises, pro- 
vided they have a good purpose in view. 
Trot! By the way, Brother Conklin, do 
you know what is the greatest of all 
truisms? Why, altruism; we try to 
teach it to our little boys and girls. 
You ought to see what a change comes 
over them after a few years of care and 
attention. Between the whip and love 
we bring most of them around all right. 

"Yonder lies the pool of which I 
made mention. The rain-fall on this 

97 



side of the divide runs into it; and be- 
yond, far over the slope, another is 
formed, of exactly the same size and 
shape as this — a perfect circle in imita- 
tion of the Circus in which we are. It 
would never do to have too much 
natural design here, because nature is 
getting to be way out of date, and 
artifice is king — a regular royal baking- 
powder for the whole lump of life. 
Every Saturday night we drive the 
spirits into the ponds for a thorough 
cleansing; they get no rub down when 
they come out, so they run to keep 
from freezing; they don't seem to mind 
the rain much for a while after their 
ice-bath, but when the cold shower gets 
on their nerves again they are a sorry 
lot; and the benefit they receive is be- 
yond measure: they'll never throw cold 
water again on earnest people, mark my 
words." 

"How do you drive them to the pools? 
I see no imps about?" 

"No imps are needed here, Mr. Con- 

98 



klin. At six o'clock Saturday evening 
we cause it to rain pitchforks, and they 
are glad enough to move poolward to 
escape from the piercing shower which 
commences at the edges. Yonder is my 
den; do you want to visit it?" He 
pointed to a hole in the hillside. They 
hastened toward it. 

Suddenly a huge animal, which must 
have been asleep in the entrance, or per- 
haps dreaming brute day-dreams, darted 
out, barking horribly. "Charge, Cer- 
berus, charge!" commanded Satan. The 
dog cowered at his feet and opened its 
three mouths with a plaintive whine; 
into them Satan cast quickly some char- 
coal tablets which happened to be in his 
pocket. The effect of them on the beast 
was magical: his limbs relaxed in slum- 
ber, and the heads fell forward onto the 
ground between the paws. "There will 
be a pause in his barking," Satan re- 
marked, "and we can sit at our ease 
within." 

Conklin stood at the entrance for a 

99 



while before going in. He wished to 
watch the poor shades that flitted past 
the den in every direction, beaten inces- 
santly by the cruel rain. The hillside 
was covered with them. One miserable 
soul ran at the drops in fury, as if he 
could tame them by biting and snarling, 
just as a mad dog would leap frenzied, 
at an enemy; but the more he gave 
way to his wrath the more he became 
tormented, until, losing his strength 
through temper and violence, he fell 
prone upon the wet ground and rolled 
moaning down the slope into the pond; 
the icy water brought him again to his 
senses, and he crawled out upon the 
bank with his head hanging down like a 
whipped cur, and walked about deject- 
edly in the clear space which his com- 
panions, who either feared or hated him 
or both, left for him. 

"If I were you I would not watch that 
soul very long," said the Corrector, "for 
madness is catching. Do you not recog- 
nize Alexander the great? It is he. 



xoo 



For over two thousand years he who 
conquered the world yet did not subdue 
his own passions has acted thus. He is 
just beginning to come to individual 
consciousness, as his melancholy moods 
indicate; soon perhaps he will have a 
social awakening, which can not exist 
without the other. Some remarkable 
cures have been made in this circle, Mr. 
Conklin. Many of our patients lose 
control of their tempers and try blindly 
to wrestle with the rain-drops; nor is it 
always amusing to see their terrible 
struggles; nevertheless, in time they 
realize their weakness as well as the 
futility of fighting against the elements, 
and then they become docile even to 
sociability. Leave your umbrella out- 
side, please; it will be safe, since none 
of the shades can lift it." 

They found the cave snug and cozy 
within. Electric lamps with soft, green 
glow hung from the ceiling; a comfort- 
able couch decorated with an embroid- 
ered cover and silken cushions filled one 



xox 



corner; across the room, which may have 
been thirty feet square, stood a beautiful 
oak book-case with glass doors; while 
in the center was a reading table, carved 
by hand, on which rested a drop light 
of the latest style; original paintings by 
the old masters hung upon the walls 
among the banners of many colleges; 
and on the floor were expensive oriental 
rugs, any one of which would have 
brought a fortune at a public sale: alto- 
gether the den possessed an artistic tone 
and an atmosphere of refinement and 
thought such as James Conklin had sel- 
dom experienced. 

"Cleopatra helped me fit this out," 
said Satan. "Do you not think she has 
a good taste? I have found that women 
as a rule possess a far greater apprecia- 
tion and knowledge of beauty than men. 
When I am tired of my executive labors, 
and weary of doctoring up degenerate 
spirits, I come here to enjoy life and to 
get my bearings. Just as a ship must 
often approach an uncharted coast with 



102 



lead and sounding line in order to 
ascertain the proper course, so I seek 
my den when cares weigh heavy upon 
me, that I may reflect upon the past 
and ponder over the future. I keep 
here the best books of all ages and 
tongues, although to tell the honest truth 
I seldom read. Good judgment, which 
is the only key to a sound and safe phil- 
osophy, is not attained by much book- 
reading." 

"What is this shelf marked off into 
feet, inches and centimeters?" Conklin 
asked after examining the library. 

"That is Mr. Helot's five-foot book- 
shelf," replied the Devil. "I measure 
it carefully once a month to be sure 
that it has not been altered by sudden 
changes in the temperature, because if 
it were shortened by even so much as a 
millimeter, Mr. Helot might turn un- 
easily in his bed, and be influenced to 
begin a religious controversy in the 
morning thro' ill humor: therefore I 

103 



am solicitous : pseudo-scientific minds 
must be measured with kid gloves." 

"What a peculiar motto you have on 
the wall over the book-case!" Conklin 
remarked. "Did you intend it for the 
general public or for yourself? I pre- 
sume you hung it there to keep the bats 
away." 

"Read it aloud," responded Satan 
with a strange smile. 

"It is printed in old English, and at 
first I could not decipher it. It runs as 
follows : 
'My purposes were good, though not my 

style; 
I meant to stir, not entertain. Carlyle/ 
What is this on the other wall? 
'It has been said that he who runs may 

read; 
Quoth I, take heed thou dost not trip 

instead/ 
You certainly delight in strange pro- 
verbs, Mr. Devil. I shall have to think 
them over more carefully when I get 
home. Ah! 

X04 



^ A useful thing in any age is iron; 
But Fve had my day, so must pass out. 

Lord Byron/ 
Is the last a bit of irony?'' 

"Just as you take it, Mr. Conklin. I 
force interpretations upon nobody." 

"That last one seems to be done by 
hand. Did you draw it?" 

"Byron did it, and signed it himself 
after a little coercion on my part; he 
was prepared for it, however. Should 
you not like to look at some more 
graphs? Many of them are autographs. 
I keep them in this album. Sit down in 
the morris chair and take it easy. I 
made them write the truth about them- 
selves in these couplets." 

"You do possess prizes, Prince. Lis- 
ten to this! 

* Alive, I wrote but little decent verse — 
/ am Walt Whitman — most of it was 



worse/ 



Worse than what, Satan?" 
"What comes after it?" 
"Nothing." 



105 



'Worse than nothing, of course. Did 
you ever blow off fire-crackers on the 
Fourth of July?" 

'Tes, lots of them." 

''Then you know what punk is?" 

"Yes, it is a soft stick made out of 
camel's dung, intended to burn with bad 
odor. What's the connection?" 

"The connection is made when you 

touch it, not before. That's enough for 

Whitman. What's the (next couplet?" 

^' ^My mind was keew — / kept it tuned 

with spirits; 

At present I sing tunes with other 
spirits/ 
This looks like E, A. T. scribbled after 
it. Who is E. A. T.?" 

"He used to spell his name E. A. Poe; 
but when he descended to our Circulus 
Stultus, he felt ashamed when everyone 
asked for his name, on account of the 
connotations going with it; so I allowed 
him to change it." 

"To?" 

"Exactly, only with an e on the end 

xo6 



of it. I think E. A. T, much nicer than 
D. R. I. N. K., do you not, Mr. Con- 
klin?" 

^Tes, but—" 

^^But what?" 

"I always thought that Poe was a 
great writer. Why, the French people 
rate him very highly." 

'^The rates are pretty high in some 
parts of France, surely. Yes, he jingled 
well. Did you ever go on a sleigh-ride 
in the cool winter?" 

"Of course I have, often. I enjoyed 
it, too. Why do you ask?" 

"Then you are familiar with the sound 
of sleigh-bells?" 

"Surely." 

"So was Poe. He contrived some cute 
little tales too — Murders in the Rue 
Morgue, the Gold Bug, Fall of the 
House of Usher, etc. They will always 
tarry — unfortunately. Did you ever 
take opium? No? Then you can never 
fully appreciate the beauties of Poe's 
writings. I am told that between recita- 

107 



tions he murmurs sadly to himself: ^I 

could have done better!' Well?" 

^^ ^Mark well my name, 'twas spread by 

foolish Rumor; 
^^ ^MARK well my name, 'twas spread 

by foolish Rumor; 
There is some catch to this couplet. I 
can not guess the writer's name." 

*'The first word gives it away. I 
gave them all away to Cleopatra and she 
read some of them and laughed a little 
at first, but soon I noticed that she had 
lost her appetite ; so I ordered an arsenic 
tonic for her, and presented the books 
to the spirits who have to work the 
force-pumps. Read another one aloud." 

"Here is an autograph which puzzles 
me sorely: 
^Together we toiled up Parnassus' 

mount; 
But, trying to mefer, lost the lyric 

fount/ 
To whom might it refer?" 

"Is there not another on the same 
page, below? Read that." 

io8 



^^ ^ Didst ever trip along a stony walk 

And stumble when thy prose began to 
talk?: 
That's funny — I don't get next. Here 
is still a third, which probably will re- 
veal the person's identity: 
^ Didst ever swim without a fear of 

drowning, 
Or bake a cake without a fear of 

Brown — ?' 
Ha ha! Now I catch on. How clever! 
But he didn't finish, Satan." 

'^No, my dear sir, any more than he 
finished anything. I have a great ad- 
miration, somehow, nevertheless, for the 
mighty nerve of such writers; nor am I 
the only one; there are some people 
who walk through literature with as 
much power of discrimination as peas- 
ants tramping down a paved street in 
sabots have delicacy of tread." 

^^Do you pose as a critic, Satan, beside 
all your other artistic accomplish- 
ments?" asked Conklin wonderingly. 

^^Only one pose has any value what- 

X09 



ever," replied his majesty without deign- 
ing to answer the question, '^and that is 
pur-pose. Without it a piece of writing 
is like a piece of rotten meat in a refrig- 
erator. With only it, however, no work 
can be worthy of a place in high liter- 
ature, because in addition there must be 
thought and beautiful expression and 
propriety. Who fails in part, fails in 
part; and who fails wholly, wholly fails. 
That's right, lay down the album, and 
turn off the light. I want to tell you 
about the spirits of this region, seeing 
that they are the primary objects of our 
study. 

"You would be surprised to know how 
various are the motives which have 
actuated these selfish and pessimistic 
ghosts in their cold water casting. The 
majority did it out of jealousy, with 
green-eyed egotism ; some, out of malice ; 
some, out of cruelty; some, out of nar- 
rowness of mind; some, out of a spirit 
of revenge: — none of them evinced the 



no 



sympathy for others which ought to be 
first in a man's thoughts. 

"Here is a special case: a young man 
leaves the business in which he has been 
prospering in order that he may satisfy 
his highest aspirations by going into the 
ministry and eventually touching with 
healing fingers the needs of humanity; 
but his relations, who have mercenary 
minds, give him an icy douche: they, 
being in the habit of criticizing every- 
thing that is not like theirs, look at his 
step from their own point of view and 
imagine that he is seeking a life of com- 
parative ease, and furthermore fear that 
he, instead of bringing money to them 
and their children, will be a burden; so 
they, to whom money and show are 
paramount, cluck at the young man. 
Of course when he succeeds, they pat 
him on the back, and even get down on 
their knees before him if he happens to 
fill a high position with a good salary 
attached to it, and say to him proudly: 
^I told you so.' But the gossip which 



zzx 



they have rolled about fails not to bring 
them down into this icy region for cor- 
rection. Did I tell you what the chief 
of our mottoes is? No? That which 
is not right must he made so, I am glad 
that you like it. In fact, everybody 
does, even the wretched souls themselves, 
since evil-doers can not be happy until 
they become straightened; and most of 
them realize it. They say that Obstinacy 
in a bad purpose disappears before the 
right master. 

"Do you know, Mr. Conklin, in spite 
of the vast business that I do and the 
great success I have in carrying out 
my ends, I am often dragged toward the 
precipice of pessimism and the cynical 
chasms. It is thus: one can not judge 
men until one knows how to study mo- 
tives, without which no sane actions are 
attempted ; yet the very study and under- 
standing of people and their motives 
opens one's eyes to the horrors of selfish 
egotism and jealousy which fill the 
world from end to end. One sole 



xxa 



thought keeps me from the gloomy 
paths: Lofty ambitions ride upon the 
waves: — with it I console myself and 
remain cheerful. 

^^Of course the case I cited to you is 
only one in a million. It would take too 
long to enumerate them all; besides I 
am not a Jesuit. Is there anything spe- 
cial that you would like to inquire 
about?" 

^Why, yes. What percent of the 
spirits here in the rain are men?" 

"About seventy-five percent, Mr. Con- 
klin." 

"And what percent are women?" 

"Seventy-five percent." 

"That is impossible, Satan. In our 
arithmetic we learn that one hundred 
percent is the limit that any number can 
reach." 

"Granted, my dear sir, but it takes 
a hundred and fifty percent of people 
like these to make a complement!" 

There came a long pause. Conklin's 
mind was broadening out like an ex- 

X13 



panded balloon, and his thoughts came 
thick and fast. "Do you never sleep?" 
he asked suddenly, looking up at Satan, 
whose pondering head rested upon his 
hands — and he was surprised to notice 
that instead of being rude and coarse 
with crooked claws, Satan^s hands had 
much refinement and delicacy, together 
with a nervous strength which was made 
evident by the showing of the cords 
upon the backs; they seemed to be 
homes of thought. 

''I try to keep regular hours," was the 
answer, "because only by such a routine 
can I accomplish my many tasks. How- 
ever, like a doctor I am always ready 
for a call, even in the dead of night. 
The slightest telephathic message arouses 
me from slumber; but usually only a 
short answer is necessary, and after 
replying I go to sleep again. You see, I 
have highly organized my work, which 
could never be done otherwise; my 
assistants take charge of all the details, 
like the assistants of a city pastor. 



"4 



Nevertheless, I take a personal interest 
in every one of these poor devils who 
are compelled to live with me in order 
to learn and be straightened, although 
they do not realize it, and thus an extra 
strain is brought upon my mind. 

''For instance, I often call a spirit in 
here to talk with it in a fatherly way 
and remonstrate with its wickedness. 
In this manner I have wonderful oppor- 
tunities for the best influence — much 
more than most ministers have, who 
neither dare nor are able to touch a 
wealthy parishioner on the shoulder and 
say privately to him or her that he or 
she would do well to mend his ways — or 
hers. The ministry on the earth is get- 
ting to be a social custom, of which the 
tea-pot is the greatest instrument. What 
a beautiful thing it is that social inter- 
course leads to society! — thereby much 
business is turned in my direction. 

"However much I lament over the fol- 
lies and the corrections of these miserable 
souls, Conklin, I am always glad to wel- 

"5 



come them. I suppose that like human 
beings I take a delight in doing a big 
business. Complete satisfaction is as far 
from the mind of a business man as of 
an idealist — extremes have many simi- 
larities, did you ever notice that, sir? 
As I was saying, I call the shades in 
here one at a time and discuss their situ- 
ation with them. Some of them are 
badly frightened, though many are bold 
and brazen; the former I treat with the 
utmost kindness, but to the latter I am 
stern and severe. Some people think 
that when you show a little sympathy it 
is a signal to let loose and take advan- 
tage of you. Some again are impression- 
able and easy to teach, while others are 
sullen and morose, so thoroughly satur- 
ated with selfishness and cynicism that 
mere argument avails nothing. It 
really hurts me to send the sensitive out 
in the rain again; but the hardened 
spirits I drive out with pleasure." 
The visitor gazed at Satan in amaze- 

1x6 



ment. "You are not half so black as 
you have been painted!" he cried. 

"No," replied the Devil sadly, "I am 
not what I appear. Most people fancy 
that I live only to tempt and to destroy; 
they have been grossly deceived by 
imaginative writers who gained fame 
and wordly goods by picturing me as 
the chief of wicked devils whose pur- 
pose is to lead good man astray, but such 
is their own invention. I am no fallen 
angel, but the creation of the mind of 
man. The Hebrews were great people 
for devils, perhaps because they had and 
saw more evil in themselves than other 
races. If you read the Apocrypha you 
will find many strange tales and stories 
about devils of all kinds; then the old 
church fathers made still more of them 
in order to frighten the poor people into 
obedience, and throughout the middle 
ages their influence was felt; the classic 
work on me is of course Spillton^s Paro' 
dice Lost, in which thrilling scenes fol- 
low one another like films of the cine- 

117 



matograph, but which like most dull 
moving picture shows can not be relied 
upon; Luther fathered whole batches of 
our imps; Calvin sired others; and Cot- 
ton Matter and Jonathan Edwards kept 
the ball a-rolling. I myself was born 
of Animism and Spiritism, as you would 
discover by perusing the thing you 
thought a gun aimed at you by friend 
Calvin. No, I am not by any means a 
prince of wickedness, but a king of cor- 
rection, developed into my full paternity, 
as I have told you, by the Hebrews and 
their religious descendants. As is the 
case with other reformers, I suffer abuse 
and reviling at the hands not merely of 
those who need reformation yet wish it 
not but also of the neutrals who don't 
know which way to turn and especially 
fear to go ahead. If I appear cruel it 
is because I have become case-hardened 
by contact with so many evil-doers." 

"Then you do not believe in sin in the 
abstract?" Conklin asked with a brighter 
countenance. 

1x8 



"Not in the abstract, but in the ab- 
straction, — are you not familiar with 
the eighth commandment? I believe as 
did the man who, having been asked the 
same question by a neighbor who hap- 
pened to be a crooked and unprincipled 
contractor and bridge-builder, answered, 
^No, but I do believe in sin in the con- 
crete!' " 

Conklin wanted to laugh but he didn't 
dare to, so he coughed into his handker- 
chief instead. 

"You must have caught cold, my dear 
fellow," cried Satan with concern. 
"Will you not take some quinine?" 

"If you had offered me something hot 
I would have said yes," Conklin replied. 
"I am a Scotchman, you know." 

"Indeed. How long?" 

"Forty-six years." 

"Then you are old enough to know 
your own mind. I will have something 
to your liking served immediately, only 
never say that I tempted you, for that is 
against my principles. Temptations 

XX9 



arise in man's own desires, Mr. Conklin, 
when he comes into contact with things 
that look good to him. Then, after he 
has yielded to temptation, he comes into 
contact with me, if he has done serious 
injury, in order to be corrected. We 
can not alter the past, but we can at least 
look out for the future." 

Just then an inner door, which Con- 
klin had not noticed, flew open, and an 
imp entered bearing a tray on which sat 
two bottles of Scotch and some cakes. 
The angel of Satan set the tray down 
upon the central table, and was about to 
go out when his master rebuked him. 

"Mr. Conklin, I should like you to 
meet Geza, one of my many assistants. 
His mother was Eve and his father was 
a heavenly angel. He is all to the good. 
He used to ascend to visit Luther, who 
had a strange predilection for the imps 
of darkness. You remember how he 
threw an ink-well at one little devil that 
he had been playing with. Luther had a 
very changeable and uncertain nature. 



120 



as the peasants of Germany discovered, 
and would as soon turn on a friend as 
on an enemy. 

"There is a story about Luther and 
my Geza which has never been pub- 
lished. One day when Luther was play- 
ing on his clavier, after having tired of 
his lute, Geza happened to come in. 
He came up close behind the great re- 
former, and when the latter turned to 
the right to play the ride of Walkurie 
on the upper notes Geza banged with all 
his might on one of the bass keys. 
Luther bent over his great head with 
that phlegmatic-excitable expression 
common to Dutchmen, and, catching 
sight of the invisible imp as he fled 
around the corner, cried angrily, ^That 
was a Hell of a note!' It was really a 
bass trick, but I enjoyed it immensely. 
Run, Geza." 

"That certainly was funny," Conklin 
remarked, wiping away the tears from 
his eyes. "This Scotch is hot, and it's 



lai 



good! Say, Satan, do you think there 
is any harm in this?" 

^^If you thought there was harm in it 
you would not have taken it, would you? 
No, surely not. A man of your morals 
and your judgment ought to be able to 
decide what is right and what is not. 
However, whiskey is hardly the key to 
health, happiness and altruism; it is a 
master-key only in that it is more master 
than servant ; but the thing that hurts me 
the most is the enormous adulteration of 
liquors which passes unnoticed by the 
federal government, probably because 
the tax on impure liquor looks the same 
as the tax on pure. What a remarkable 
thing and just that the poor man gets the 
worst of everything! — poisonous drink, 
poisonous food, and poisonous air! Let 
us drink, Mr. Conklin, to the health of 
the poor man — God bless him. I see, 
brother, that you prefer whiskey-toast 
to milk-toast, like all patriotic men of 
your race. Have another?" 

^*No, thank you, not just now. I be- 



xaa 



lieve in drinking only in a measure, Mr. 
Devil." 

^^If you wish, then, I'll have Geza 
bring you a gallon can." 

^^Don't bother — I only want to wet 
my gills. It's strange that you can't hear 
the rain in here." 

"Not so strange after all, my dear 
man : I arranged it so. Once in a while 
I have Geza place a large sheet of gal- 
vanized iron over the den, whenever I 
want to ponder over the days of my 
childhood and become sentimental ; then, 
you see, it reminds me of the flood — the 
great flood of '00. What a terrible time 
that was! Lots of poor people were 
drowned, but many were saved, in spite 
of the reports. The associated press got 
the cablegram wrong; and, after the 
news once traveled that Noah and his 
family were the only ones saved, Noah, 
who was a young Morgan, felt so com- 
plimented that he bought up the press 
and all contemporary literature in order 
to keep the advertisement. If I remem- 



123 



ber rightly, he set up a tailor shop in 
the town of Arrahrat and sold small- 
clothes to measure; and they said he did 
a thriving business; he would have be- 
come a pawnbroker and put articles up 
the spout for poor people and charged 
them anywhere from ten to twenty per- 
cent a month, but not only were there 
no articles left after the deluge to pawn, 
but also he did not like to be reminded 
of the rain. There is a report that when 
the ark-lights went out one night on 
their journey to the mountain-top Noah 
picked the pockets — I mean the noses — 
no I means the ears of half his compan- 
ions, but I can not believe that of him. 
The fact is, however, that he did charge 
the elephants double price for checking 
their trunks, and when they kicked 
about it he put mice under their feet. 
Thus graft began. Noah was some- 
thing of a politician, too : one day he ran 
for governor when the raft went in the 
wrong direction, on the famous plank, 
124 



'E pluribus unus/ What are you writ- 
ing in your notebook, Mr. Conklin?" 

"I am taking down what you have 
have been saying about Noah and the 
flood, in order that I may tell it to my 
Sunday-school class. You surely have 
no objections?" 

"My only objection is that you might 
also stuff their tender minds so full of 
old-fashioned dope — I, the origin of sin, 
etc. — that they would not know which 
way to walk in order to find Sunday." 

"Well, what would you teach them?" 

"I would do the way many modern 
psychologists do — fill them up with re- 
actions and watch them scrape the mud 
off their brains with the hope of discov- 
ering where they are; in other words, I 
would stick pins into them and laugh 
when they jump." 

Conklin looked horrified. "Would 
you never tell them the truth?" 

"Who knows the truth? Who would 
dare to tell it to a Sunday-school class 
or a church full of prunes if he did know 

125 



it? How the old geezers force worm- 
eaten relics of antiquity down the throats 
of the young, and hang like grim death 
to the coat-tails of the world so that 
they can kick it full of holes whenever 
they feel inclined! Did you know that 
many so-called atheists get that way be- 
cause they were taught in their early 
days things which stuck crosswise in 
their gizzard when they came to matur- 
ity? — praying for material objects, for 
instance; the idea that God has the qual- 
ities of a man, etc. When one does not 
know, let him say frankly that he does 
not know; if he must prattle, prattle 
his puerile speculations to mud-turtles. 
Many systematic philosophers, preachers 
and teachers are serving time with me 
for having wasted life chewing the rag 
over things about which they knew noth- 
ing; the case would not be half so bad 
had they not shoved their adulterated 
dope on the unwitting public. 

"You will be interested in hearing 
about the wonderful case of the spirit 

X26 



of John Dough. He had made a fool of 
himself while alive by writing specula- 
tive philosophy simply to make a big 
reputation regardless of the ill effects of 
his doings upon the multitude. The other 
day I received a telepham from Brother 
Beelzebub in his ofBce. It ran thus: 
^One of our most noted spirits is raving. 
What shall I do? Signed Beelzie.* I 
telephammed back : What is the nature 
of his madness?' ^Keeps repeating 
^Whingwhing bosk bosk kalgie bum!''' 
came the reply. I laughed so hard that 
I almost split, and for days I snickered 
and laughed to myself when the humor 
of it struck me. I wired right back: 
^Give him a certificate of release and 
send him on his way happy.' Do you 
know what the poor devil said? ^The 
arguments of speculative philosophy be 
damned!' I don't blame Beelzie for not 
having understood it because it is a lan- 
guage known only to those who have 
specialized in Logic and Logic's brood 
— Ruemaniac, its name." 

127 



"I am rather surprised to hear this," 
said Conklin, wrinkling up his eyebrows. 
"As for me myself, I have always been 
extremely interested in Philosophy; 
and I have heard it said that no man 
can be a great thinker unless he knows 
the history of systematic philosophy at 
his fingers' ends." 

Satan sighed. "Such is, unfortun- 
ately, the common opinion of people 
who have studied it themselves and are 
able to sling it about with some fuss. 
Let me ask you a question, Mr. Conklin, 
which I know you will answer sincerely : 
How much did you ever get out of 
your study of other men's technical, 
philosophical systems?" 

"Not very much," answered Conklin 
opening his eyes wide and then closing 
them in order to think better. 

"Did you ever peek inside of a dark 
whiskey bottle only to find nothing 
there? Of course — we all have; yet we 
wouldn't have been satisfied unless we 
had examined the bottle. It is just so 

X28 



with systematic philosophy: it begins 
with nothing, uses a language that no- 
body understands, and ends where it 
began. The good one receives from it 
is first a direction of the thoughts along 
serious directions, and secondly the exer- 
cise the brain gets from running around 
dark corners after something that is not 
there. The thinking man who works on 
the railroad and solves his problems does 
more than the systematizer whose name 
appears on the pay-roll of fame. You 
must be tired by this time. Brother Con- 
klin. Should you not like to sleep? 
Geza, show Mr. Conklin to his bedroom, 
and place a brand-new bottle of Scotch 
beside the bed, so that if he should hap- 
pen to awake during the night he will 
have the spirits of darkness near by 
to comfort him. Good-night, brother, 
sleep well." 



129 



J 



CHAPTER VI 

Circus Classicus 

AMES CONKLIN was aroused in 
the morning, after a beautiful and 
restful slumber, by the imp Geza, who 
touched him lightly on the shoulder and 
told him that if he desired he could have 
a cold shower by stepping out-of-doors 
by the back way; but he shook his head 
at the thought of running through the 
icy rain like a guilty spirit, took a wee 
nippie, and hastened to clothe himself. 
Then he tackled the steaming breakfast 
which Geza brought, wondering all the 
time that he ate, how under the earth it 
had been prepared. He enjoyed it im- 
mensely. 

"Hello, Geza!" he cried. "Where did 
this delicious steak come from?" 

"From Maine, sir. It is a mees-steak. 
Do you not like it, sir?" 

130 



"Splendid! Where is the Devil?" 

"He is out on the bank waiting for 
you, sir. He said that when you were 
ready — no hurry, sir — you should come 
out through the front door." 

Sure enough, When Conklin arrived 
at the entrance, there stood the Hell- 
master with two umbrellas in his hand, 
which he put down in order to assist 
Conklin with his outer garments. 

"I know that you had a good sleep," 
said he. "Now you are in much better 
condition for traveling farther down. I 
just sent to Charon a telepham inform- 
ing him that he must stop at our story 
and wait on us." 

"How it does rain!" Conklin ex- 
claimed as they stepped outside. "Does 
it never let up?" Evidently he had half 
expected to find it clear in the morning. 

"Never, unless the plumbing gets out 
of order, in which case we summon the 
imps of torture and corral the' spirits 
into the icy lakes, where they must re- 
main until the repairs are completed by 
the plumbers." ^3, 



^Then do they hand in their bills?" 
^^Ha ha! that is a good joke. No, 
when they descend into our institution 
they leave their bills and wills above to 
cause a peck of trouble. Some of the 
crookedest of the bunch go plumb crazy 
from the awful heat to which we subject 
them; but the experimenters soon get a 
line on them and fix them up. Be care- 
ful with your umbrella — you nearly put 
my eye out. You will pardon me for not 
having a canopy for you, will you not, 
Mr. Conklin? I thought that you pre- 
ferred to rough it, having been a soldier 
in the Spanish war, where soldiers were 
treated like criminals and all beef was 
corrupted; and besides" — here Satan 
whispered in James's ear after taking 
out the plug with his left hand — "we do 
not like the word canopy — it sounds 
like — " 

At that instant a huge, horrid-looking 
bird flew close to their umbrellas and 
gave a grating cry. 

X3a 



"What was that?" cried Conklin with 
a start and a shudder. 

"Oh, that is the shade of the Prude 
Bird. It was sired by Immodesty and 
mired by Curiosity; it has tempted many 
souls into Hell, especially the young 
and tender." 

Neither spoke until they had arrived 
at the 'elevator station where they found 
Charon leaning up against the corner of 
the door reading a newspaper. He 
looked up when he heard their steps 
and tried in vain to hide the sheet. 

"What in Sam Hill are you doing 
with that thing?" Satan shouted in a 
rage. The whole of Hell shook from 
the vibrations, thunders pealed on the 
left, and green lightnings shot through 
the air. The reconstructed boy trembled 
like an aspen leaf, and his eyes wheeled 
around toward each other, so frightened 
were they. 

"I-I-I am-m-m r-r-read-ding-g ab- 
bout-t th-the Mex-xic-c-an horrors, the 

X33 



European War, and the Ne Ork under- 
world, Sir," he stammered out 

The Dark Prince waved his hand 
sharply toward the lever of the 'elevator. 
"Get in there quick and start her up. 
Our time is precious." 

Charron hung his head from shame 
and took his position without delay; he 
closed the door when the travelers were 
safely esconced on the soft seat; and 
turned on the power. The 'elevator shot 
downward even more rapidly than be- 
fore, but now the human visitor had 
become somewhat accustomed to its 
motion. 

"You will find it brighter in the Circus 
Classicus than in the circus we just left," 
said Satan, "since we have an artificial 
sun, and moon, and stars overhead. Per- 
haps you had better shade your eyes 
when you step out, for I would not have 
you return to the earth with your eye- 
sight impaired." 

"What is this next circle — the Circus 
Classicus, did you say?" 

134 



^^It is the Classy Club, just as its name 
denotes. It is peopled with spirits who, 
while they lived, tried to be superior to 
others in social ways, snubbing their 
poorer fellows for one superficial reason 
or another. Naturally they come from 
all countries and climes; there are 
plenty of representatives from the whole 
country in spite of the extreme youthful- 
ness of the nation and its democratic 
principles." 

"Do you mean that Christians come 
here?" demanded Conklin in great sur- 
prise. 

"Who said that Christians come here? 
No true Christian comes here, for such 
not only never harm others, but what- 
ever they have whether money, time, or 
talent — they give freely and lovingly to 
their fellow men in a way that will ben- 
efit them. Why should they come here? 
The spirits I am speaking about put on 
false airs in order to let their neighbors 
feel that they, themselves would-be aris- 
tocrats, belong to a superior class. They 

135 



have done great evil, because they stifled 
their own better qualities to begin with, 
and then gave needless ojffense and irri- 
tation to others, thus causing superficial 
imitation, if not bitter jealousy, and 
either hatred of all things that smack of 
aristocracy or love of them: hence a 
general perversion of time and thought, 
and much nonsense." 

"Then you do not believe in aristoc- 
racy?" 

"Of course I do — aristocracy of char- 
acter, which is the only kind where there 
is good, better and best. Most aristoc- 
racies are all bad, and many are rotten." 

"Yet — are you, the Prince of Devils, 
not an aristocrat?" 

"No, sir: I am a Plutocrat!" an- 
swered Satan sharply. He whipped his 
legs with his tail nervously for a minute, 
and then he continued in a much calmer 
manner: "I think we had better change 
the subject, Conklin." 

But his visitor had no desire to arouse 
a contention of any kind. He had come 

X36 



to observe, not to argue; and besides 
he saw the wicked tail still swinging 
viciously, and its point was sharp. So he 
settled down on the velvet and went to 
sleep. 

When he awoke, he found himself 
still lying on the bench in the 'elevator, 
all alone with Charon, who stood peer- 
ing at him with his flaming eyes, which 
now turned furiously away from each 
other as if they had been quarreling; the 
old boy's fetid breath seemed worse 
than ever, in spite of the many charcoal 
tablets he had swallowed since morning 
at his master's directions. 

"Turn your head toward the door, 
Charron, just — I think you have a won- 
derful profile — that's it — keep it that 
way! How sunny it is! I fancied for 
the moment I was back in a Ne Ork 
'elevator, just. Where is Satan?" 

"He went out to stop a disturbance, 
sir, and left word for me to stay here 
without making any noise until you 
should wake up, sir." 

137 



'What was the disturbance?" 
'Why, one of the new arrivals tried to 
make Satan's sun stand still, and the 
crowd quit work to see the fun." 
'Who was this new arrival?" 
"A Mellican millionaire, sir." 
"Are you familiar with his name?" 
"Yes, sir, because I happened to hear 
my master shout it when he flew out of 
the 'elevator — Johannus Jacobus Astrol- 
ogus. Then I heard Satan ask him 
whether he took the sun for a virgin or 
just wanted to try his hand against all 
Hell. I didn't catch the answer, sir, 
but I did get the rest of it, and I had to 
stop up my ears, sir, it was so horrible!" 
James squirmed in his seat and cov- 
ered his eyes with his hands. Then he 
reached into his pocket and took out a 
dime, which he held out to Charon. 

"No thank you, sir," said Charron 
much to Conklin's surprise, who was 
evidently in the habit of giving tips in 
return for personal attentions. "Master 
does not allow me to receive money 

138 



from his customers. Some of them have 
offered me as much as ten billion dol- 
lars, would you believe it, sir; but I care 
not for money — I work for love — master 
treats me kindly, sir; and I prefer a 
kind word to all the treasures of Mam- 
mon. Ten cents, sir? Why, that 
wouldn't buy an ice-cream soda down 
here! Satan said you might walk around 
until he came back, or if you preferred 
you could sit on that cushion, which I 
will put out of doors for you, sir." 

Conklin dropped the dime absent- 
mindedly, and was very much surprised 
to see a burning hand reach up from the 
'elevator floor, receive the coin in its 
grasp, and consume it utterly with sul- 
furious flames; then the hand dis- 
appeared whence it came, and nothing 
was left of either (it was a right hand) 
but a noisome odor of brimstone. 

'^Did you see that?" he shouted to 
Charon. 

'^See what?" replied the latter with 
indifference. 

X39 



"That hand! Where did it come 
from?" 

"Most likely from the Mosaic on the 
floor. These Jews are great grabbers. 
But where will you wait for Satan, here 
on the cushion by the elevator wall or 
walking around the circle? Come, sir, 
I must be going." 

"Pardon me — I was startled. Why, 
I'll sit on the cushion, if if s the same to 
you." 

"Surely. Here you are, sir. Master 
will return before long," and with that 
he closed the door and buzzed upward 
faster than lightning. 

Meanwhile Conklin took his seat out- 
side. He had to shade his eyes on ac- 
count of the bright light which came 
from the artificial sun. Feeling tired 
from his previous exertions, which his 
recent slumbers had not been sufficient 
to counteract entirely, he laid his head 
upon one hand and fell fast asleep. 

Soon Satan returned. "Hell-o, Con- 
klin!" he cried cheerfully, in the man- 

140 



ner of one who has accomplished well 
his task. "Come, wake up before I 
have to stick you with my tail!" 

The Hell-visitor came to his senses in 
an instant. "The Devil of a man you'd 
be to stick your visitors and injure your 
patronage!" he answered, tit for tat. 
"Do you take me for a pin-cushion? 
Wait until I have chosen your mansion 
for my home. Whereto now, your 
majesty?" 

"Do you see that group of spirits oS 
in the distance? We shall commence 
with them. Well, what do you think of 
our sun?" 

"Great stuff. Devil. At first I almost 
fanced it was the real thing." 

"So do many of our workmen until 
they discover me in the neighborhood: 
then they come to with a start, just as 
you did — ha!" 

"Who are those spirits ahead? They 
appear to be digging something from 
the ground with shovels." 

"They are digging, and pretty lively, 

X4X 



too. See the imps with whips? They 
don't allow any delay — against the rules 
of our bosses. Did you ask me who 
those spirits are? They are for the most 
part Bawdway and Pipth Avenue mil- 
lionaires — I mean they were. Now they 
are peons digging for dear life. It's the 
worst punishment imaginable for them. 
They would gladly change places with 
any of the others, except perhaps those 
down stairs; but we give them no 
favors.'' 

James's eyes stuck out again when he 
heard this, and he staggered. "P-pard- 
don m-me," he stammered, pinching his 
legs in order to regain control of him- 
self, "but it came suddenly. Why, we 
poor devils on earth look up to those 
men as if they were gods, and worship 
them. To tell the truth — if you will 
not repeat it — I think it's a deuced good 
thing! But all the millionaires don't 
come here to work, do they?" 

"No indeed, not any more than the 
whole of any so-called class. Many rich 



X42 



men are better than thousands of people 
with little or no money; and a few of 
them are wonderful men. Do you see 
that fellow just swinging the pick over 
his shoulder? He is an interesting char- 
acter, ril call him — I wouldn't waste 
a telepham on him." 

At the snap of the Demon's tail the 
whole gang threw down their picks and 
shovels and commenced to rub their 
hands. 

"Hey, you!" shouted the master an- 
grily, "do you think it's noon? Not on 
your sweet life, nor ever will be down 
here for you. Look for your shadows, 
if you don't believe me. Ha ha! Why, 
you are all shadow! Should you like 
to exchange shifts with your dear com- 
rades in the Circus Horri — " 

The diggers did not wait for him to 
finish his sentence, but seized their im- 
plements and began to work so fast that 
the whips of their correctors hit the air 
above their backs. 

"That's better, boys," laughed Satan. 

143 



'^Rustle Sagebusch, you lay down your 
pick and come here to me." 

The spirit addressed did as he was 
bid, and trembling from fear approached 
the travelers. He could not endure the 
curious gaze which Conklin played up- 
on him as if trying to remember where 
he had seen him before, but dropped 
his eyes and stood like a culprit. 

"Why were you sent here to the lower 
regions, Rustle Sagebusch?" demanded 
the Devil with no gentle voice. 

"I-I-I — because of my generosity," 
replied the shade after a moment's hesi- 
tation. 

"All right. Now go back to your 
work, and if I have occasion to correct 
you again you'll take your chances in 
the circle that I do not need to mention, 
sirrah. Mr. Conklin does not care to 
speak to a peon of your class, either. 
Go! Pardon me for a little roughness, 
Brother Conklin. That man is a fake! 

"He belongs to the same class as a 
friend of mine who, having been prom- 

X44 



inent in his primary life on earth, started 
upwards by mistake when he turned up 
his toes. The gate-keeper saw him com- 
ing up the hill, and had his record in 
hand when my friend, whose name I 
will not divulge, arrived; so, having the 
facts in black and white, he said to my 
friend that the balance of his account 
was on the debit side, and told him to go 
to Hell. It was a shock to him, of 
course, but he should have known better 
than start off in the wrong direction." 

Conklin laughed; but when he saw 
tears of sorrow drop down Satan's cheek 
he burst out crying. 

'There, there 1" said Satan softly, 
"don't cry, — take it easy. Some day 
these rich people will wake up to their 
responsibilities before they come down 
here, and then perhaps they won't have 
to come down. It's a lucky thing we 
have something to look forward to. Did 
you notice what these shadows are work- 
ing on? They are digging a sewer 
through which to run off, when com- 

«45 



pleted, the impurities that drop from 
these — er — peons, these correctees." 

*^Do you have no woman suffrage here, 
Satan? I see none toiling on the sewer." 

"Sure we do. Did you imagine that 
we would make the poor men suffer and 
not the women? As a rule they are to 
blame for their husbands' tendencies 
toward superficial show and aristocratic 
bearing. What do you think Mr. Tom, 
Dick or Harry would care for style if 
his wife did not drive him to it in order 
to give her a social standing above some 
other poor — of misery? We give the 
women plenty to do, all right, all right 
— they scrub floors and do divers dirty 
work in the mud-holes. We have only 
one shift for day and night, too, in these 
regions. However, these things can not 
be very interesting to you. Let's come 
over to the races." 

"Do you have races down here?" 

"Sure we do. Having been somewhat 
of a high-flyer myself in my early days, 
I like to combine correction with sport 

146 



whenever feasible. This way, please." 
Like old chums they sauntered across 
the fields arm in arm; and Conklin lis- 
tened attentively while the Reformer 
described the methods and ideals of the 
Circus Classicus. Here at least there 
was need for neither fur-coat nor asbes- 
tos covering, although an umbrella 
might have served as a protection against 
the rays of the artificial sun; but, since 
Conklin found a pair of blue spectacles 
in his pocket and put them on to shade 
his eyes, he minded not the heat, which 
after the torrid flames of the Circus 
Maximus, seemed warm and pleasant 
like a beautiful day in June. 

"I felt obliged to arrange at least one 
spot cozy and agreeable," the Devil re- 
marked. ^'It serves a double purpose: 
not only can I come here and lie on my 
back on the grass and enjoy the sun-light 
while I ponder over my problems and 
muse about the past, but the spirits are 
reminded of the beautiful world they 
left, so that first they mourn, and then 

«47 



bemoan the misuse they made of their 
earthly time and station. Stirring the 
emotions is a great factor in correction." 

'What is that great thing ahead that 
looks like a stadium?" demanded James. 

"It is a stadium. There are great 
numbers of them scattered thro' the cir- 
cus, and this is Number I." 

"What is the tall structure that looks 
like a tower off to the right of the 
stadium?" 

"That is my private observation tower, 
whence I obtain a splendid view of the 
whole proceedings; thither we are now 
proceeding." 

When they came to the tower, an imp 
wearing a buttoned uniform opened 
wide the door and bowed low until they 
had entered; then another angel ushered 
them into the 'elevator and carried them 
to the top in a trice. 

"Will you kindly explain to me, 
Satan," asked James in a low voice, 
"why it is that you dress some of the 
imps but leave the spirits bare?" 

X4B 



"With much pleasure," replied the 
Prince of Sports as he motioned his vis- 
itor into an easy chair by the railing, 
"You see, the special service imps must 
be well dressed for the looks of things, 
v^hereas the correction-helpers, such as 
you have seen v^ith pitchforks, vv^hips, 
et cetera, could not accomplish well 
their tasks if they wore clothing. You 
know how it is yourself: when you are 
all rigged up in your Sunday go-to- 
meeting garments, you naturally avoid 
anything that smacks of manual labor as 
a cat avoids dying on the front doorstep. 
Now the spirits who come here from the 
upper world for reform have suffered 
eclipse of the peepers during life-time 
on account of the superficial coverings 
over everything they saw. Just for an 
easy, simple example in a physical way: 
they see a foot — a neat, trim, well- 
dressed foot — which pleases their optics 
and makes them fancy that a nice foot 
has an absolute value far up in the thou- 
sands; remove the leathern covering, 



Z49 



and what do you discover? a flabby 
piece of stinking flesh adorned with 
corns, onions and other vegetables; but 
they have no means of knowing that, so 
they depart filled with false admiration. 
Again : we are ' at a reception : the 
beautiful dames stand at the door and 
receive, with the aid of a gentleman or 
two, the fine looking specimens of 
humanity that pass through: ^Great 
stuff!* you whisper excitedly as one after 
another they absorb the lime-light and 
charm the beholders; but strip them in 
their chambres and what do you find? 
vulgar masses of fat or lean surmounted 
by a head that might have been made 
in a carpenter's shop and finished in the 
paint- or dye-house, and tonsorial par- 
lors. In other words, appearances de- 
ceive, and reality is eclipsed by the 
outward show, — umbra, numbra, and 
penumbra. 

"Here, however, the case is different, 
Mr. Conklin: each spirit, whether male 
or female, stands forth as he really is, 

ISO 



and not only can we perceive at a glance 
just what is there and what is not, but 
they themselves behold the naked truth 
about themselves and their acquaintances 
for the first time. Thus wisdom gradu- 
ally usurps the place which blindness 
formerly held." 

*'I am glad you explained it to me, 
Satan," said Conklin frankly, ^^because 
although I said nothing about it, when I 
first saw the naked spirits I was some- 
what jarred." 

"Jars are good when the cover is 
tight," returned the Devil with an 
amused smile. "I knew that you had a 
proper control over yourself, else I 
would not have brought you down. Of 
course these spirits feel no shame on ac- 
count of the nakedness itself, for the 
very reason that they have no passion; 
their shame comes from seeing the 
reality. 

"While we are talking we are missing 
part of the performance. Brother James. 
The Hippodrome is the act today. Do 



15X 



you see those souls riding around the 
ring at a furious speed?" 

"Yes, and I wondered what they were 
doing before you called my attention to 
them. Are they really indulging in 
sport, or is there some correction con- 
nected with it?" 

"I should say so," answered the other 
eagerly. "The pleasure that comes from 
the sport end of it is ours — mine and the 
imps' ; whereas the other side is theirs. 

"Listen: the imps provide a selected 
number of hobby-horses that go like the 
deuce, and then an equal number of imps 
leap upon other hobbies whose speed is 
a trifle greater than the first; the starter 
gives the spirits the signal when they 
are fairly well arranged on the line 
with the imps a thousand yards behind, 
and off they go lickety-cut. See! they 
are just starting! Hurrah! hurrah! go 
it, old boys, go it! Pardon me, James, 
for becoming excited. When the imps 
finally catch up with the correctees, they 
leap upon them and try to cut out their 

152 



insolence and haughtiness and worthless 
pride by the aid of hooked knives. That 
part of the game is not so pleasant to 
behold, I acknowledge, like the killing 
of the horses in a Spanish bull-fight, but 
it is necessary, and beneficial, too. There 
they go again — the last lap! See the 
imps gain on the poor devils! Now 
they are sticking them! Hurrah! You 
do not wonder I love to come here, do 
you, Mr. Conklin? The beauty of it 
all is that we combine pleasure with 
profit; I rejoice to think that every one 
of those racy spirits will be a better — 
more charitable person in his next exist- 
ence. Look quick, James! This next 
race is a side-saddle affair. Wouldn^t 
you like to stay here for a week, though? 
Did you notice the group waving their 
hands by the eastern gate? They are 
the book-makers, and they have the 
tenth race on the program." 

"Do the poor wretches never win, 
Satan?" 

"Once in a while, for the sake of 

X53 



encouraging them, yes; but we blow 
them up afterwards." 

"How do you blow them up?'' 
''You notice the bleachers filled with 
spirits awaiting their turn on the track? 
Well, the imps wait until each one has 
won a race from them, and then they 
have a few mock races among them- 
selves in which neither chased nor 
chasers win; and the crowd goes wild 
from excitement, being reminded of the 
moving-picture shows that govern the 
earth ; but just before the end of the last 
lap a brazen-throated fiend gets up into 
the judges' stand and cries out through 
a megaphone: — 'Don't get excited, ladies 
and gentlemen — a bomb is about to go 
off!'; and, sure enough, the bomb ex- 
plodes and hurls the wretches in every 
direction — mostly up in the air; then 
we call them down again, a little bit 
worse for wear, but very amenable to 
correction; some return so much out of 
shape that the demons lay them on the 
track and ride over them until they re- 

154 



form, to the great delectation of the 
hobbies, whose hoofs thus obtain a rest. 
The latter method of straightening them 
out is called the Racial Pressure." 

"Are all these souls rich people — I 
mean were?'' asked Conklin with a 
shudder, for at that moment the imp- 
riders caught up with the side-saddlers. 

*^No, no indeed. Perhaps sixty per- 
cent of them never saw a great deal of 
money at once, but they all were guilty 
of the noxious sin of uncharitableness 
combined with classy contempt of other 
people. In the second stadium belong 
those souls who when alive owned auto- 
mobiles and became disdainful on that 
account. Since their treatment is some- 
what similar to this that you see, we 
shall not take the time and trouble to go 
there. I might tell you, nevertheless, 
how their races are managed: automo- 
biles start out like the hobbie-horses ; 
and when the souls congratulate them- 
selves that they are drawing away from 
the imps a huge bar is suddenly dropped 

155 



across the track, and the contemptuous 
classics are hurled against pitchforks 
which the gleeful demons hold out to 
them. That is what I call real fun. 
Then of course the bar is withdrawn in 
order that the pursuing imps may have 
the pleasure of running over the fallen 
souls. I'll tell you the name of this 
game if you won't breathe a word of it," 
whispered the Devil, glancing around to 
see whether any imp were near enough 
to hear. 

'^Not a word, upon my honor, Satan." 

*'We call it Crossing the Bar! Ha 
ha! startled you some, didn't it? I knew 
it would. That's the kind of a bar these 
people cross." 

"You are a bar-bar-ous lot!" mur- 
mured Conklin with a wry face. 

"Not many barbers here," answered 
Satan, who misunderstood his visitor's 
remark. "Whatever few do come are 
assigned to other circles usually. Of 
course you might find a few who de- 
spised their customers because they did 

X56 



not receive an extra tip, but in any case 
they get tipped here." 

'What do you think of the Hoolihan, 
the Hoolihan, the Hoolihan!" Conklin 
suddenly sang, rising from his seat and 
swinging his arms around his head. 
His head had lost its fine balance 
through too much excitement and hor- 
ror and sympathy for the miserable crew 
of classy despisers. 

'We had better go right back to the 
^elevator, sir,'' exclaimed Satan, who be- 
came anxious for the welfare of his 
guest. ^ "Charron is a skillful masseur, 
and he will make you feel fine." 

''Those little hands — those little 
hands!" cried Conklin, wringing his 
powerful paws with all his might. 

"Buza! Buza!" Satan signaled to the 
imp downstairs, "bring up two bottles 
of hot Scotch at once; at once!" 

Hardly had the imp received the 
telepham when he appeared before his 
master with the goods on a tray with 
glasses. Conklin rushed forward, for- 

157 



getting his madness, and drained one of 
the bottles at a single draught. "Two a 
penny, three a penny, hot cross buns!" 
he shouted, and then sank down in a 
heap. 

Satan placed the sleeping man gently 
on a couch which stood beneath an awn- 
ing, and stroked his head. As a glisten- 
ing tear fell u-pon his sandy hair, his 
twisted features relaxed and his rapid, 
irregular breathing became as peaceful 
as that of a slumbering child. 

"Poor fellow!" said the Devil with a 
sigh. "This has been too much for him. 
I should not have told him what I did, 
because it seemed to upset him — grated 
perhaps on his ^religious consciousness, 
which is remarkably developed in these 
Scotchmen. Nevertheless, the hot tonic 
and a little sleep will bring him around 
all right." So he left him reclining on 
the couch protected from the glaring sun, 
which doubtlessly had much to do with 
the sudden stroke, and took his seat by the 
rail to meditate. 

158 



CHAPTER VII 

Circus Pyrotechnalis 

llf HEN James Conklin awoke from 
his long sleep, he found himself 
in a most comfortable bed. Sunshine 
flooded in through the windows, one 
ray of it falling upon a beautiful pic- 
ture of Cleopatra ascending the Nile. 
The walls were decorated with paper of 
a lovely blue color which satisfied the 
eye completely. There hung other pic- 
tures too ; and a blue and white chiffonier 
stood between the windows, surmounted 
by a French plate mirror of oval shape. 
Altogether the room exuded a feminine 
atmosphere, which was not displeasing 
to Conklin to say the least. 

"Hell-o!" he called. "Hell-o! Where 
am I? Who is there?" 

The door was opened quietly and a 
soft voice said: "You are among friends, 

159 



Mr. Conklin. I am your nurse, or rather 
I have been, and I am glad that you 
woke up so nicely. Are you hungry?" 

"Hungry as a bear," growled James, 
proving the proverb that says the strong- 
est man is the worst patient. "Who are 
you anyway?" He tried to rise in order 
to see who was speaking to him. 

"Oh, don't get up just now, Mr. Conk- 
lin," answered the gentle voice with a 
little laugh. "You are hardly in a fit con- 
dition to be seen, you know. Wait until 
after breakfast, and then you can dress 
and come down stairs, where my husband 
is waiting for you." A wonderful female 
vision placed a tray containing a bounti- 
ful breakfast on the bed and disappeared 
before James could get a good look at 
her. 

He sighed, and then devoured the 
meal like a man who has not eaten 
for forty-two hours — Scotch oatmeal, 
cream, sugar, rolls, butter, marmalade, 
eggs, baked potatoes, steak, grapefruit, 
and a glass of hot toddy. Then he sighed 

x6o 



again, and after rolling over in bed sev- 
eral times as if loath to leave it he 
stepped out onto the floor and com- 
menced to dress himself, after taking a 
sponge bath from the basin of a hand- 
painted wash-stand, since he found his 
clothes, neatly pressed, lying on a chair 
near the bed. He sighed a third time 
when he took up his scarf, which had 
been smoothed out to look like new: a 
diamond pin stuck in it — and surely he 
wore no scarf-pin when he left home 
with Satan! However, he thrust the pin 
into its place in the center of the tie be- 
low the knot, and then looked to see 
whether the same hands that left the pin 
had not also bestowed a diamond breast- 
pin! A little disappointed, Conklin 
brushed his hair with the gold-backed 
brushes which lay on the dresser, and 
went down stairs with the air of a man 
who does not quite understand where he 
is but is determined to be master of the 
situation at any cost. 

^^Hell-o!" cried a familiar voice. "I 

i6x 



thought my wife would fix you up all 
right, Conklin. I did not like to bring 
you here at first, out of principle, but you 
slept so long at the top of the tower that 
I became alarmed about your condition 
and decided to put you in feminine 
hands. There is nothing like a womaa. 
to cure a sick man, you can count on 
that." 

James rubbed his forehead with his 
hands as if he was trying to connect the 
present with the past, and looked first 
at Satan, who sat in an easy chair smok- 
ing a pipe — the smell of which savored 
strongly of brimstone, and then at his 
wife, the lovely Cleopatra herself, who 
stood behind her husband with a smile 
on her beautiful face. 

"That's all right, old man," said Satan, 
rising to his feet and extending his hand 
to his visitor. "Never mind what has 
happened in the past. My wife says that 
you are all right again, and that is the 
main thing just now. Have a good break- 
fast? No headache? Nothing like a 

x62 



Scotch temperance to give a man a good 
constitution — and Scotch whiskey to pull 
him out of danger — eh? And in lieu of 
a Scotch girl, a pretty Egyptian does 
fairly well, what? Sit down and make 
yourself at home. Let me introduce you 
formally to Cleopatra, my wife. Have 
you seen to the kitchen fire, my dear? to 
the hens? to the children? You will ex- 
cuse her, will you not, Mr. Conklin, for 
she has much to do. Are you feeling 
strong enough to continue our little jour- 
ney?'^ 

^^ust as you say," replied Conklin, 
watching Cleopatra until she disap- 
peared. "I am ready for anything." 

"Yes, I think we had better be moving 
right along. Your time is no doubt val- 
uable, as is mine, and if you are feeling 
as well as you appear, you will be all 
right for the rest of the journey, which 
is not so very long now. Cleopatra! Cleo- 
patra! Mr. Conklin is going away, and 
he wishes to say good-by to you." 

Cleopatra appeared in the door-way 

163 



with a silken duster of blue color tied 
around her head. ^^Good-by, Mr. Conk- 
lin," she said with a charming smile, "I 
am sorry you were sick; but I hope you 
will not forget us when you return to 
your own home. Excuse my negligee, 
won't you? Good-by." 

James hardly knew which end he was 
standing on. "Good-by," he said, me- 
chanically, and his eyes followed her all 
the way to the door as she went back to 
the kitchen to finish her work. 

^'Come on, Conklin," said Satan. 
"Here is your hat. There is no time to 
waste. I had Gaza bring an automobile 
so that you would not have to walk to 
the 'elevator. Step in — lively, please! Not 
more than a hundred miles an hour, 
Gaza, for we wish to view the country as 
we go by. See this beautiful landscape? 
blue mountains? blue river? blue grass? 
Had it put there to please Cleopatra. 
Did you notice the Clematis Verticillaris 
on the side of the veranda? The blue- 
jays come to build their nests in it. The 

164 



lawn is made of bluets instead of the hor- 
rible green grass which most commuting 
mortals with artificial tastes sow and reap 
continually and keep well covered with 
horse and cow droppings mixed with 
straw. Our ensign is the blue-flag. Our 
clothes are washed in bluine. Cleopatra 
has no chance to get homesick, I tell you. 
Here we are at the station. Toot toot! 
All aboard!" 

Charon, who had been expecting his 
master and his visitor, shut the 'elevator 
door with a bang, so startled was he to 
see Satan in such a strange mood; and 
his wheeling eyes whirled around rapid- 
ly to the right, in the direction of the 
demon prince, very suspiciously. 

*^This seems to be the same place 
where we got out the last time," re- 
marked Conklin, who had regained the 
use of his faculties, tongue included. 

"Down like Hell, old boy!" cried Sa- 
tan to the ex-ferryman, who obeyed so 
promptly that Conklin was thrown vio- 
lently against the top of the 'elevator, 



where he remained the rest of the jour- 
ney, gazing down at Satan with a piteous 
expression. Evidently the latter was 
cross about something; he said not an- 
other word until they arrived at the next 
circle and Charon had swung wide the 
gates; but he caught James in his arms 
as he fell from the ceiling like a little 
child, and carrying him out set him upon 
his feet on the ground. 

"You know I was provoked at being 
compelled to take you to my home," he 
said in a gentler manner, "but now I 
feel as if you were my own child, and 
we'll be good friends again. That was 
the same circus, as you remarked. Do 
you suppose I would go to the trouble of 
having two suns, two moons, and two 
sets of stars? They were contrived es- 
pecially for Cleopatra, and not for the 
souls, as I may have led you to believe. 
We have enjoyed many a trip through 
the country of an afternoon, and many a 
delightful spin, and many a wonderful 
spoon in the moonlight. Ah, my boy! 

x66 



"However, there are other things to 
think of now. We are in the Circus Pyro- 
technalis, which is to me the most inter- 
esting of all, leaving out the one where 
I live, of course. Does not the name of 
the place connote the picture of a Fourth 
of July celebration? I am afraid that the 
spirits who receive correction here think 
otherwise; but if they had been wise 
above they would not now have to think 
otherwise below. Who are they? Pub- 
lic and political ofifenders. We shall step 
in this building for a moment. You'd 
better put on your blue glasses, boy. 
Hades, what a heat! I had almost for- 
gotten that it was so intense. Get be- 
hind me and you will not feel it so much. 
Can you distinguish those spirits hanging 
over the rafters? Ha! They were dis- 
tinguished on the earth, but here they 
are almost extinguished — ha ha! an- 
guished — ha! They were public officials, 
such as mayors, kings, governors,, presi- 
dents, congressmen, and so forth, who 
intentionally made use of their authority 

167 



to fill their own coffers and further their 
own interests, and who did not do their 
best for the people whom they were sup- 
posed to help ; all who oppose prepared- 
ness, since they are traitors; and news- 
paper men who published false news that 
did injury to the country. They are too 
green to burn, and so they are hanging 
up there to dry! Ha ha! ha ha!" His 
laugh was terrible. 

^What a horrid noise they are mak- 
ing!" cried Conklin, putting the plugs 
quickly into his ears. 

"They are having a royal time of it," 
Satan said. "Many of them are famous 
characters, some of whom you might rec- 
ognize from having seen their pictures, 
if you could get a good glimpse of their 
faces ; but they purposely hide their feat- 
ures or distort them so as to be unrecog- 
nizable; and perhaps it is best thus, for 
who wants to see such dirty trash? 

"Over on the other side of the building 
where those rows of huge fire-places 
stand, there the active traitors slowly 

x68 



roast on spits that turn in the very flames : 
the turning of the spits indicates the 
manner in which they deserted their 
country in the time of need. Let us ap- 
proach and speak to them." 

Conklin's eyes bulged out until they 
nearly touched the blue glass perched in 
front of them, but then quickly retreated 
into their sockets on account of the heat: 
he had recognized Benedict Arnold! He 
gasped for breath, and turned away in 
order not to see the horrid contortions of 
the sallow face. 

"Not him!" he hoarsely whispered. 
*^Someone else!" So they went farther 
along, until they came before a spike on 
which a wretched victim's whole body 
was convulsed from agony. 

"Who are you?" demanded Conklin, 
without waiting for the Hell-master to 
speak, as had been his custom previously. 

"I was Alcibiades," answered the 
spirit with a twist and a groan. Then, 
when his face revolved again, he added 
painfully: "What do you want with me, 
human soul?" la^ 



An expression of disgust passed over 
the questioner's features. *With you? 
Nothing! Turn away, vile traitor!" The 
unfortunate spirit did as the other re- 
quested — from necessity; and his dread- 
ful countenance, which during his stay 
on earth had been so beautiful that men 
and women could not help loving him, 
despite his wickedness, moved slowly 
toward the wall. 

^'Should you like to speak to Aeschi- 
nes?" asked Satan, who had watched 
with serious but unmoved physiognomy 
the intercourse between his visitor and 
the punishees. 

''No," replied Conklin earnestly. "A 
little goes a long way here. Let us leave 
these degraded ghosts and continue on 
our journey. There must be other things 
worth examining in the Pyrotechnical 
Circle, and more pleasant than this." 

"As you wish, brother," Satan an- 
swered. "It is in your interests that we 
came here, not mine. Which should you 
care to visit next: the second section of 

170 



national pilferers, or the uncommon 
grafters?" 

'What is the difference between 
them?" 

"There is no difference except in the 
name and in the method of correction — 
both orders are full of ordure." 

"Whichever you choose, therefore, 
Mr. Devil — only take me out of this 
building — the odor of roasting flesh is 
more than I can endure, especially af- 
ter my spell of — ahem — ha — er — sick- 



ness." 



"You named it well, my boy," re- 
turned Satan pityingly. "At first I was 
minded to send you up to the clinic for 
the alienists to treat you; but on second 
thought I remembered that I have made 
no stranger of you, and therefore I 
changed my plan. You came out of the 
large end of the horn — with flying col- 
ors." He looked up at his visitor sud- 
denly and scrutinized him sharply; find- 
ing but a far-away expression, he 
changed the subject. "I shall take you 

171 



first to the correction of the national pil- 
ferers, and then we shall be better able 
to plan about the rest." 

After leaving the traitors' castle, as 
Satan styled it, they arrived before long 
at an adamantine structure fashioned 
somewhat in the manner of a medieval 
fortress, about which hundreds of imps 
were playing leap-frog. When they be- 
held his devilish majesty they rapidly 
formed in line and gave the military sa- 
lute to him and to his companion, who 
was surprised at the sight of so many 
little demons and their peculiar proceed- 
ings, although he felt complimented by 
the ceremony. 

"How is everything in the fort?" de- 
manded Satan of the captain. 

"All well, your majesty," replied the 
latter, bowing low. 

"Return to your game, then, my chil- 
dren, and enjoy yourselves while you 
may. Have you finished with the special 
correction?" 

"Yes, your majesty. Only ten had to 

17* 



be shipped up to the clinic this time to 
have their nerves readjusted, and they 
are already on the way up." 

"Very good. Follow me in, James, and 
let nothing alarm you, for fate is with 
you." 

They sped upward upon a moving es- 
calator and soon had passed within the 
forbidding gates of the fortress. 

"Why do you have such a strong guard 
outside?" asked the visitor, who just 
now gave up trying to imagine the rea- 
son by himself. 

"Because we have so much money in 
the fort," answered Satan. "Do you think 
we would leave our most precious pos- 
sessions unguarded? Money is the root 
of all evil, the worldly proverb says, and 
naturally it is invaluable for our pur- 
poses in this circus. This way, please." 

They stepped through an open door 
to the right, and found themselves in a 
large office, which was well lighted by 
means of pale-green electric lamps. In 
the farthest corner was a desk of tremen- 

173 



dous proportions with a roll top, before 
which sat a man whose mind appeared 
to be deeply absorbed in figuring out a 
difficult problem, since he was mutter- 
ing to himself as he drew designs and 
numbers upon a large sheet of greenish 
paper and wrinkling up his forehead, 
only part of which showed beneath a 
black treasurer's cap, unwholesomely. 
He jumped to his feet immediately upon 
seeing the visitors, and made a reverend 
salaam. Conklin was surprised to find 
him dressed in the latest Ne Ork style, 
neat and immaculate — black suit, black 
tie, and a blackish heart — at least the 
latter must possess such a shade, judged 
Conklin from the wicked frown that had 
adorned the heavy face whose iron-gray 
mustache wore a secret sneer: it was 
very unusual to see a man with all the 
appearances of a Ne Orker not wear a 
self-satisfied, sleek, and fat expression, 
but rather a bearish and hunted look, 
which betokened an unhappy interior. 
The man had laid down a heavy black 

174 



cigar three-quarters burned, with ashes 
still clinging to the end of it as if waiting 
miserly to have the last faint breath of 
smoke sucked out, upon the desk, as he 
hastily rose. 

"You are a paradox. Mammon," said 
Satan, waving his hand carelessly in 
answer to the profound salute. "When 
I meet you away from your office, you 
have the air of a man whose mind is 
free from worry and fret; but here you 
expose an entirely different complexion. 
One would almost conclude that the job 
were too big for you, or else that you 
found it difficult to fit yourself into your 
new surroundings since moving from 
the old buildings. Til bet you are gruff 
as a wolf to the spirits, old boy!" 

"Why not, your majesty?" replied 
the other nervously, and he saluted again 
in the manner of sycophant. "They 
come here to be punished, do they not? 
Why be pleasant to them?" 

"No, you are wrong. Mammon — they 
are consigned to our apartments for cor- 

175 



rection. How many times have I told 
you that you must forget those old- 
fashioned ideas we used to have about 
punishment? The times have changed, 
and we, who are not governors of the 
universe but merely servants of the al- 
mighty powers, must needs change with 
them. If we had had absolute wisdom 
and truth in the early days, we should 
have known better than we did; but we 
are only poor, weak devils after all! 
Do not forget that we are children of 
the age, now and always. How can we 
perceive or comprehend more than 
others, who may have even less intelli- 
gence and revelation than we, of uni- 
versal things? We can not, so the 
scholars say, and they know. Therefore 
remember this, and write it upon your 
pad so that you may keep it in sight and 
in mind continually : we are ministers of 
correction, not of punishment; we shape 
for the future, not kick about the past. 
Are you not happy? Do you begrudge 
the poor spirits even a place in our 

176 



midst? You are not the owner of this 
fortress, but merely a servant acting 
under my authority. Further: although 
you have to deal harshly with the souls 
who come here for correction, especially 
in regard to money matters, smile in 
their faces and make them feel at least 
that you are a friend. Be like the 
women, Mammon, ^who gossip terrible 
things about their so-seeming friends, 
and yet smile upon the objects of their 
jealousy whenever they meet face to 
face. In other words, as a member of 
the under-world, be under-worldly." 

"Yes, majesty," answered the cringing 
treasurer. 

"I forgot for the moment that I have 
a friend with me. Mammon, to whom I 
should like to introduce you! Mr. Con- 
klin, Mr. Mammon. Mr. Mammon is 
one of our old standbies. Brother. I 
don't know what we should do without 
him. He is one of our chief agents, if not 
the chief, to the upper world whence 
you come. He deals in mortgages of all 

X77 



kinds, but his specialty is real estate. 
He holds a first mortgage on most of the 
large cities in the world. His chef- 
d'oeuvre in that line was drawn up with 
the citizens and officials of Ne Ork, of 
which town perhaps you have heard the 
people speak — it is one of the sewers of 
the eastern coast of New Palestine. 
Oh, you are well acquainted with it, are 
you? Well, then I need not describe it. 
Yes, Mammon holds the first mortgage, 
and I — I hold the second and third, and 
soon I will have the fourth, when the 
tenement houses are raised ten or fifteen 
more stories and the property value in- 
creases enough to warrant it. Our busi- 
ness is pretty big; and, really, I do not 
wonder that Mammon is often worried. 
But nevertheless we must keep up ap- 
pearances, my dear treasurer, or else 
people will think that we, not they, are 
going in the hole. You have probably 
been in Ne Ork long enough to know 
how much appearances mean, Mr. Con- 
Z78 



klin. Well, how are things moving 
here?" 

"First rate, your majesty; but I was 
just figuring up, when you entered, how 
soon the correctee B^orgian would need 
another billion." 

"How soon?" 

"If you will wait just a minute, I can 
tell you very accurately, majesty." Mam- 
mon turned to his desk and made some 
calculations as rapidly as lightning. 
*Two days and a half — more accurately, 
sixty-two hours, five minutes, and twelve 
seconds, sir." 

"Is it already being warmed for him?" 

"Yes, your sanctity, it is in the electric 
furnace now." 

"Very good. You may return to your 
work. Mammon — much obliged for 
your attention. Do you see the books in 
front of his desk, James? Those are the 
year-books. Who's Who, et cetera, which 
are invaluable to us in our researches. 
By the way, there is a bottle of spring- 
water to your left, Conklin. Don't care 

179 



for water? Well, well, if you are not 
thirsty we can walk all the better. 
There is much to behold in this fortress, 
so we'll leave our Mr. Mammon and 
take a look at D'orgian. This direc- 
tion." 

They went down the gloomy hallway 
until they came to a door on the right 
before which hung a sign marked "The 
Counting House," and through which 
they passed. The sound of chinking 
became audible to Conklin even through 
his mufflers. 

"Take out your ear-plugs, James, 
since here no cries rise to heaven to in- 
jure the stars, and the spirits speak very 
rapidly because they dare not cease even 
for an instant from their labors." 

Down the tremendous length of the 
room which they had entered ran a 
brazen grating, like the fence in front 
of the cashier's office in a bank, only 
higher and stronger, adorned with fan- 
tastic figures and devilish shapes. It 
was a masterpiece of bronze work, ex- 

x8o 



ecuted by Wite, Satan explained to his 
visitor. The space behind this extra- 
ordinary railing was divided into many 
rooms by the same material. The 
greenish light peculiar to Hades fluctu- 
ated through the hall, and filled it with 
a most melancholy atmosphere. The 
smells which floated into Conklin's sen- 
sitive nostrils were none the pleasantest, 
either — they reminded him of burning 
skin and rubber, and were much more 
pungent than the odors of evaporated 
dung. A white glow directly before 
him caught Conklin's attention. 

"What is that iridescent pile?" he 
asked of his guide. 

"It is a heap of hot gold," answered 
the latter. "Follow me into the room, 
where one of the most touching sights 
of Hell may be observed." He turned 
the massive knob of the heavy door until 
the correct combination resulted, and 
they walked into the sancta sanctorum, 
the inner shrine, the sacred lodge. Be- 
hold, a spirit stood before a mountain of 

i8x 



white gold counting it out as fast as his 
trembling fingers would allow. 

"Keep right on with your work, M'or- 
gian," said Satan with a stern voice, "and 
don't you dare quit for the hundredth 
fraction of a second, if you care not to 
jump into the Circus Horribilimus! 
We came not to hold a colloquy with 
such a thing as you, but to watch the 



count." 



The wretch shook all over from fright, 
yet he continued passing the hot metal 
from the pile to the mouth of a brazen 
chute which yawned at his feet. The 
chinking of the coin was unpleasant to 
Conklin, since well he knew what enor- 
mities it had produced and to what 
monstrosities it had given birth. Never- 
theless, it had a certain fascination for 
him, as it has for everybody — ghosts of 
the shadowy dead as well as hosts of the 
living dead. Chink, chink, chink — at 
the rate of a thousand pieces a minute it 
was separated from its gleaming matrix 
five at a time by the blistered fingers, 

182 



which, being but the shadow of a reality, 
could not be burned away, yet which, 
having been sensitized to that degree 
which is imparted to a finger of flesh by 
a cancerous felon, felt pain at the hot 
touch in an unspeakable manner. 

'Was this man a felon?" asked James 
with a shudder. 

"No, not in the eyes of the law or his 
money-eyed worshippers; but in the 
light of all that is right and just, yes." 

"I rather expected to see a spirit with 
a tremendous nose, Satan, whereas this 
one has a little, hollow, turned-up 
smeller." 

"Naturally you expected what you 
did. The fact is that when this shade 
croaked, his nose, which had been but 
a fleshly inflation, fell in as the wind 
left it. Thus doth death often cause 
contrarities. Have you beheld enough 
here? Then we shall pass to the next 
ward." 

As they left the strange counting- 
house and slammed the ornamented 

X83 



door shut with a sharp click, James 
turned his bewildered glance toward his 
leader and whispered cautiously, "You 
don^t seem to have any devils here to 
guard N^orgian and his burning pile of 
gold!" 

"Oh you Scotchman!" cried Satan, 
whose grim features relaxed in a pleased 
smile. "You would make sure of a 
mountain of money, would you not? 
Don't worry an instant about that. 
Money has no value down in Hell, and 
furthermore the gold which you beheld 
is fool's gold. Did you imagine M'or- 
gian could make off with it? Why, he 
is so fascinated by it that whatever pain 
it costs continually to count it is more 
than counteracted by the hypnotism of 
the gold, though not alleviated; and be- 
sides there is nothing else that he knows 
how to do." 

"If then you need no protection for 
the sake of the gold, and are not afraid 
that the wretched correctee will run 
away from his task, why do you main- 

zS4 



tain such a heavy guard outside the 
building?" 

"Ha ha! I don't wonder that you are 
somewhat puzzled, comrade. Most peo- 
ple who enter Hades are more puzzled 
than you, take it from me. The reason 
why we maintain such a heavy guard 
outside is to prevent all Hell from com- 
ing in to help D'orgian count his pile! 
ha! You have lots to learn yet. But 
come, we are wasting time; the cell 
which we are about to visit is literally 
a chamber of horrors, not merely on 
account of the characters which are con- 
fined therein but also the manner of cor- 
rection which is meted out." 

For some time Conklin had noticed a 
peculiar noise — very much like that 
heard in a school-room when all the 
naughty scholars cough with brazen 
throats in order to annoy the teacher. 
Lo! there inside the ward stood hundreds 
of spirits coughing violently, each of 
them closely attended by a guardian 
imp with an instrument shaped like a 
cornucopia in his hand. ,85 



^'What are they doing in here?" cried 
Conklin. 

"Your wit must be sharpened in order 
to appreciate and comprehend the won- 
ders of Hades," replied Satan crossly. 
"Can you not use your eyes? In the sec- 
tion which we just left is stored our 
main pile; in this room are our coughers! 
Smell the odor of burning spirits? All 
these souls pilfered their nation's wealth 
for the sake of getting rich, acquiring 
more than ten million dollars before 
they died. The smaller pilferers re- 
ceive their medicine upstairs. The lat- 
ter swallow and cough up according to 
our directions coins varying from one- 
dollar gold-pieces to eagles; these rascals 
spit up double-eagles. Did you observe 
the funnel into which M'orgian dropped 
the gold after counting it? That pours 
them through a tunnel into this chamber 
— over there by the wall. Beliar, who 
superintends this department, receives 
the gold and distributes it to the imps, 
who must render to the furnace-tender 

x86 



all the tender taken from Beliar. We 
are no tender bunch! Who bargains 
with the devil must pay in hard cash; 
no credit is allowed in our department 
stores. 

''Now, if you watch carefully, you 
will notice the circulating imp, a husky 
devil, approach the scuttle where Beliar 
sits at his desk, pull the cord which gov- 
erns the flow of gold, fill his bronze 
kettle almost to overflowing, and carry 
it around to each imp, who takes out a 
handful and feeds it to his spirit piece 
by piece. The ghosts must cough up 
each coin one hundred times before re- 
ceiving the next. Of course the money 
becomes rather cold by the hundredth 
time, but what's the difference? the cor- 
rective value is the same." 

At first sight the scene disgusted Con- 
klin horribly, but he soon got used to 
the coughing and straining of the pecu- 
lators; and after his guide had ex- 
plained the system to him he took an 
active and curious interest in everything 
that went on. ,87 



"That's funny!" he suddenly ex- 
claimed. 

"What's funny?" asked Satan. 

"Why, no matter how much the pil- 
ferers twist and contort their bodies in 
their effort to spew up a coin, even 
throwing themselves backward and for- 
ward and sideways almost to the floor 
with agony, they do not seem to stir 
from the spot where they stand!" 

"The reason^ should be evident to a 
man of your acumen, James: they are 
rooted to the spot, of course." 

"With what, Satan? Glue? wire? 
magnetic currents?" 

"YouVe had your three, now give 
your tongue to the cats. With money, 
of course — money, the root of all evil. 
If you press the point, I must answer 
that they are hypnotized, too. These 
fellows, in spite of the gripes in their 
tripes, as the Spaniards would say, 
would not run away if they could, the 
way Jeanie Calvin did. At first the 
experience is wonderful to them, and 

z88 



they bite at the double-eagles like cats 
at a young robin, as if they wished to 
gulp down even the feathers; but after 
a time the eagle becomes pretty tough 
for them, and then indigestion of the 
worst sort sets in; finally the spirit re- 
pents of his wholesale stealing, and then 
he has had enough of the correction to 
restore him to an honest state and a 
strong, burning desire to help the world 
instead of stealing from it — say in a 
thousand or two or three thousand years, 
we send him up to some elementary 
planet for a fresh start, perhaps in the 
form of an alebon, which is similar to 
the amoebon of this world." 

'^That is very interesting, I am sure, 
Mr. Devil. But do the imps not become 
tired of their task? and how can they 
handle the red-hot gold without being 
burned?" 

'^They are so interested in the reform 
of their children, as they call the crim- 
inals, that their duties afford them the 
greatest pleasure. Don't you yourself 

X89 



sort of enjoy seeing these grafters have 
to cough up money? Certainly. So do 
I. Do you know, Conklin, I am look- 
ing forward to the time when all this 
pilfering business will be done away, 
and the would-be big-scale boodlers will 
be prevented by just measures from 
stripping the earth and hence be kept 
from the horrors of Hell. Some day, I 
hope, there will be no Hell, Brother 
Conklin." 
"But what will become of you then?" 
"It makes no difference. When one's 
work is done, why remain as a faded 
souvenir? Why shuffle away the hours 
upon the shelf like a pickled embryo? I 
shall not care to exist as a mere wart 
upon the fundament of time; my name 
shall linger in the mind of posterity to 
impress upon it moral lessons from age 
to age. What more could I ask for? 
Besides, who knows what the future has 
in store? Let us hope and work for the 
best. Stars may burn and worlds may 
go; man works out his own future in 



xgo 



the environment in which he is placed. 
He is real. I, a poor devil, am but a 
creation and instrument of man, and I 
must wait on him." 

"I like your sentiments, Satan. You 
did not tell me, however, about the 
hands of the imps; and I should like to 
ask too about the peculiarly shaped ob- 
jects they hold." 

"The little devils feel no pain what- 
ever from the hot gold, for the reason 
that they are half Jews on their mother^s 
side and half Jews on their father's side, 
having been transformed from the gen- 
eration of Adam into imps by the imagi- 
nation of man; on the other hand, they 
enjoy their job immensely, and it would 
be difficult to tear them away; they 
would swallow the gold themselves if 
we allowed them to, but of course we 
wouldn't stand for that — they would 
eat us out of house and home. 

"The instruments they hold are corn- 
ucopiae, filled with sulfurious brim- 
stone vapor; when the spirits seem too 

xgx 



slow in coughing up their dough, they 
clap the cornua over their heads and 
choke them thus into retching. It would 
not pay to be too ceremonious here, al- 
though, seeing the past grandeur of 
these robbers, the imps always beg par- 
don afterwards and give them two 
double eagles to swallow for the next 
meal." 

^^Who is that thin fellow yonder — - 
seems green at the business?" 

"You mean the sallow spirit over 
there just being choked into submission 
by a cornucopia? Why, that is Stonie- 
girl. He came here but a short while 
ago. He finds it easy enough to swal- 
low the coin, but much more difficult to 
vomit it up; he is weazened anyway, 
and his organs were in bad shape when 
he arrived. Should you care to speak 
to him for a minute? He was a great 
curiosity at first, because his fame pre- 
ceded him here, but the spirits and the 
imps got disgusted with him because he 
smelt so vile." 

192 



'Thew, Devil! He stinks like helH 
What is that odor? We used to shoot 
pole-cats up where I lived in the country, 
but they never hurt my nostrils like this 
fellow." 

^Well, you see, he came so horribly 
caked with turpitude that we had to 
immerse him in hot oil to soften him up, 
and to our surprise and dismay it made 
him stink all the worse, although what 
do we care so long as it only gives 
more offense to his neighbors? Hell-o, 
Stoniegirl! Brother Conklin would like 
to say a word when you have coughed 
up your double-eagle — make it fasti" 

^'I trust you enjoy your dinner, Mr. 
Stoniegirl," said Conklin with a grin. 
"Don't you get real hungry before 
breakfast?" 

"This is no trust company — no tru-u- 
u-uh-ucha-uch-oh-koh-uch-cha-" 

"Leave him alone, James. There are 
better objects to observe. Come along. 
I will be retching before long myself if 
I stay here. The other side of the build- 

193 



ing contains a correction-hall of extra- 
ordinary interest, so thither we shall 
direct our steps. You have heard of Dis, 
have you not? He has charge of the 
east-side, where we are now going; 
Beliar, whom you saw in the belching 
department, directs the west-side; and 
Mammon, whom we addressed in the 
office, is the general superintendent of 
the fort and too the whole circle. Here 
we are — step in quietly, so that you will 
not disturb the court." 

They had entered a judgment-hall. 
Behind a low desk on a bench sat the 
demon called Dis, the famous justice, 
surrounded by his associates. 

*'This is about the only court in the 
world where justice is not bought and 
sold," said Satan sadly. "If a bribe 
should even be attempted, both the 
briber and the bribee would be thrown 
without mercy into the Horrible Circle, 
and thence into the vain void of very 
vacuum; but safe to say it never hap- 
pens. The judges are, commencing at 

194 



the extreme left: Dismay, Disapproval, 
Dissatisfaction, Discuss, Disassociate, 
Disconnect, Disgust, Disabled, Disavow, 
Disentery, and Distress last, he of the 
long hair; Dis is of course in the mid- 
dle, as you might have judged by his 
disinterested air. There are no lawyers 
or Jewry, either. The prisoners, whom 
you can see standing in barred cells at- 
tended each by a demon with a garrot 
in his hands, are tried one by one and 
then executed each right in his cage 
where all can partake of the disagreeable 
spectacle, as many times as he took dollars 
for favorable judgment in his previous 
capacity on earth as judge; then they are 
revived by means of an electric applica- 
tion, which is found in each cell, and 
put to the fiery torture, which consists 
of sending just as much electric current 
through them as they can endure, at a 
signal given by Dis. It is very inspiring 
to see them go up in flames all together. 
No mask is allowed. But I am telling 
you too much, for you can watch it all 

<95 



yourself, and my speaking bothers the 
bench." 

They sat down by the wall in chairs 
which had been provided for visitors, 
since there was no gallery. They beheld 
Dis extend his awful arm and point to a 
prisoner. "Guilty or — guilty?" he de- 
manded in hollow tones of his associates. 
"Guilty!" they replied mournfully. The 
arm was extended again, this time 
toward a disk upon the wall fashioned 
like the face of a clock: immediately the 
hand upon it, the hand of fate, revolved 
until it stopped at the number which 
designated the entire sums taken as 
bribes by the criminal during his term 
of office. Then the demon who had 
been waiting with malicious eagerness 
garroted the wretch with swift motions 
the correct number of times, stopping 
only to turn on and off the reviving cur- 
rent between chokes. The horrid con- 
tortions of the wretch in his extreme 
agony grated upon Conklin's nerves just 
as squeaking glass grates upon a neuras- 

196 



thenic, making him sick to his stomach; 
twice he almost fainted, but he recalled 
his wandering senses before they had left 
his forehead. Even Satan was com- 
pelled to hide his face in his hands; the 
judges writhed as they watched, fasci- 
nated; the other prisoners gasped with 
horror, some of them trying in vain to 
turn away, attracted like a mother to her 
daughter's execution on the gallows, 
others staring with eyes sticking out of 
their hollow skulls, and still others drop- 
ping to the floor in a faint. When at 
last this dreadful task was over, Dis 
raised his awful arm once more, and the 
next rascal was given his medicine. 

"Now watch!" whispered the Devil, 
after all in the hall had been treated. 
"Now comes the exciting moment!" 

Dis rose to his feet, towering terribly. 
"Have any of you wretches anything to 
say?" he shouted. There was no reply 
— the voice had been garroted out of 
them. "Then turn on the current!" he 
yelled. 

197 



A flame of greenish hue shot through 
the immense hall. Brimstone fumes 
combined with a noisome, sulfurious 
stench came to the nostrils of the travel- 
ers, drowning out the odor of scorched 
spirit-flesh. 

"Ha ha!" Dis cried, waving his hands 
in the air frantically. "Give it to them! 
Soak it to them!'' 

"Hell and damnation!" muttered Sa- 
tan — "he has no business to get so ex- 
cited, a judge of his distinction!" 

"Now the reviver!" shouted Dis, still 
gesticulating wildly. 

The deed was done. The criminals 
had received the first instalment of their 
dues. Satan stood up and clutched Conk- 
lin by the sleeve. 

"Let us depart while the memory of 
their correction is still vivid," he said 
hoarsely. "The rest of their treatment is 
similar to that which you observed on 
the other side: they are shipped upstairs, 
where they are forced to swallow their 
previous judgments, which are con- 

X98 



densed into hard, round pellets and 
heated to a white heat. Others, who have 
been waiting in a box outside, are 
brought into the court-room to fill the 
empty places." 

"Do the justices get no rest?" de- 
manded Conklin, who had just found 
his voice after the severe strain upon his 
nerves. 

"Why should they? Do I receive any 
rest? Does God rest? Those who work 
in the behalf of humanity do not seek 
for easy paths. Let us depart." 

Arm in arm they passed out of the 
heavy fort. The great Corrector felt the 
human hand that lay in his shake and 
tremble. He looked at his companion 
pityingly, and felt compassion on him 
when he noticed how pale and drawn 
was his countenance. 

"For pity's sake, man, don't take the 
correction of a bunch of rascals so much 
to heart. You can do them little good 
now, for their fate has already been de- 
cided. Seek rather to prevent your earth- 

199 



ly brethren from committing such crimes 
themselves. Do your duty to the living, 
letting the dead pity the dead." 

"I know, but great Scott, what a 
doom! I was thinking more about the 
past in my own life, Satan — worrying." 

"You'll do, my boy, you'll do! Forget 
what mistakes you may have made so 
far, and let bygones be bygones. In as- 
sisting your fellows who need your help 
you can cross oflf the old score, if you 
feel sure that there is one against 
you; but above all things, don't worr}^ 
What would happen to Hell if I began 
to worry? Why it would go all to blazes. 
Be a man, and do good. This is the only 
life-time you'll have, and already it is 
half spent ; make the best of the rest of it. 

"I wonder whether you would take an 
interest in the great forest fire. Yes, I'll 
send them a telepham at once command- 
ing them to hold the flames back until we 
arrive; but it's quite a distance off — per- 
haps — we won't take the trouble to walk 
— we'll fly over." Suiting his actions to 



200 



his words, he lifted his comrade up as 
previously when they had begun their 
journey; and carried him through the 
air more swiftly than any eagle that darts 
down from a lofty ledge to seize a fish 
in the clear waters, and set him gently 
upon his feet within sight of a large for- 
est, the presence of which as an organ 
of correction was a surprise to the ever- 
bewildered Scotchman, whose nerve, 
however, remained always with him. 

"What is this for?" he queried. 

"For-rest," replied Satan. 

"Are you the chief for-rester?" 

"I surely am no wooden Redman, my 
child. Behold! they are about to touch 
the match to the grove. Those trees ap- 
pear to be white with golden leaves, 
nicht wahr? They have sprung up from 
the ghouly corpses of souls which we 
planted, and watered with condensed 
oxygen, and exorcised; their leaves are 
gilt wafers of guilt which developed 
from the stains on the seeds, and their 
buds are the fruits of evil deeds. Can 



aoz 



you discern objects creeping through the 
branches? Those are other souls which, 
having been transformed into greedy 
monkeys, are trying to grasp the shining 
foliage. Ha ha! they will burn!" 

Hardly had Satan finished speaking 
when the flames, started by the torch- 
bearing imps, began to sweep through 
the trees with awful blast. The forest 
shrieked and moaned, and the grasping 
apes howled in agony and mortal fear. 
It was the most wonderful spectacle that 
Conklin ever saw. 

^Whom do you correct thus cruelly?" 
asked the latter in a whisper. 

"The trees are souls that cut down the 
forests of Nature ruthlessly when they 
lived in the flesh; who left branches, tall 
stumps and crooked trunks in their wake 
as they cut through the glorious woods 
in order to gain a few paltry dollars with 
which to make a vain show before their 
fellows; the monkeys are souls that 
abused special privileges and monopolies 
for their own pecuniary advantage re- 



302 



gardless of the rights, comforts and bene- 
fits of the public; that stole lands and 
other natural and public properties, such 
as coal, woods, petroleum pockets, and 
national resources of whatever kind ; that 
cheated the Indians; that forced up the 
price of real estate on which stood no 
buildings; that robbed the nation in any 
way; and the lawyers and congressmen 
who protected them." 

"How about those that monkeyed with 
the price of real estate where there were 
buildings?" 

"They are cleansed in another place. 
Shall we fly thither?" 

"If you please. Devil, — this conflagra- 
tion frightens and sickens me." 

Again the Demon seized his visitor 
with his powerful hands and bore him 
off like the wind. They alighted before 
a large city that glistened and sparkled 
in spite of the intense gloom that sur- 
rounded it. From their hill it looked 
very beautiful with its nucleus of im- 
mense buildings and protoplasm of 

ao3 



shady suburbs, except that on closer in- 
spection the latter appeared to be 
composed mainly of tenement houses 
crouching in an ugly manner next to one 
another, with scarcely the width of a 
knife-blade between them. 

"That lovely city is built of com- 
pressed oxygen; it rises at a word from 
me. Within the wretched outskirts are 
the spirits of real-estate dealers and all 
of their class who pushed up the price 
of land and houses and constructed tene- 
ments and various buildings for specula- 
tion, and jewed people in general: they 
receive charts, designs on transparent 
paper, and blue-prints, which they must 
work over and study out as if to explain 
to innocent purchasers, but which they 
never finish, because the flames quickly 
cut them off. In the town proper are 
landlords who charged exorbitant rent 
or who allowed bad conditions to obtain 
in their buildings; proprietors of fac- 
tories where unsanitary and dangerous 
conditions brought woe to the workmen, 

204 



or who abused child laborers, women 
laborers, and men laborers in any way 
whatever; merchants and producers who 
forced unjust prices; civil and uncivil 
grafters; white-slavers; pimps and 
whoremongers who coerced their stock 
in trade; food adulteraters ; Jews who 
burnt buildings for fire-sales, without 
causing death; Jews who caused fire for 
the sake of insurance, without causing 
death; immoral, degenerate and jingo- 
istic newspaper men, who receive torture 
first at the hands of printers' devils: 
plumbers who did poor jobs on purpose 
or otherwise and who extorted extrava- 
gant prices; burglars, and city thieves of 
whatever profession; and strikers who 
sought to destroy property or to injure 
strike-breakers. Anybody else who has 
lived uncivilly that I may have left out 
is put in. When they are all pursuing 
their criminal trades without a thought 
of danger, happy in their misdeeds, the 
match is applied and the whole city 
burns up. Oh, it is a great dis-play. Ha! 

305 



there she goes — the fire-warden just re- 
ceived my telepham." 

Then was a sight to see. Wholly ab- 
sorbed the travelers stood almost breath- 
less upon the hill watching the pitiless 
flames work their destruction. One by 
one the tall buildings tottered and fell; 
the smaller houses were more swiftly 
consumed. Conklin could imagine the 
poor wretches caught here and there and 
roasted alive with quivering nerves. 
Gasping, he shut his eyes and rubbed the 
pit of his stomach. 

"I pity them!" he uttered hoarsely. 

"So do I," replied Satan with an arch 
smile; "but what else did you expect to 
find in the Pit of Correction? Did you 
ever see a crooked man made straight by 
the laying on of ordinary hands? Not 
on your sweet life. These spirits are 
gradually purged. Once a week I recre- 
ate both embers of souls and ashes of the 
town, of which after a fire, as you can 
see for yourself, there is little left. It is 
all right. They receive thus the weekly 

ao6 



edition, as I like to call the conflagra- 
tion, of their treatment; oftener than that 
would be likely to destroy their nervous 
systems altogether." 

"But I do not quite understand what 
becomes of the shades from the time of 
the fire to the next recreation. Arch- 
fiend." 

"They are in a form similar to abso- 
lutely unselfish love — they do not exist: 
because the pyrotechnical application 
cleanses them so thoroughly for the mo- 
ment; nevertheless, each spirit, though 
naught but embers, remembers. Thus 
between fires they have time for reflec- 
tion, free even from disturbance from 
their fellows, whom they themselves can 
not see, and whose presence they can not 
feel." 

"Yet, Devil — the pain must be dread- 
ful!" 

"Dreadful? to souls that heeded not 
the pain of others while alive? Sweet, 
boy, sweet — sweet and full of lovely cor- 
rection. Well, this piece of fire-works is 



207 



over. Near-by lies an orchard which I 
know will be of interest to you, and if 
you are not averse we shall walk there 
— just a short way beyond the next hill." 

So together they walked, neither say- 
ing a word: James's mind dwelt upon 
the awful pyrotechniques he had viewed 
almost against his will; and Satan was 
thinking — who knows? 

When they reached the top of the 
slope behind which lay the orchard, they 
heard the sound of singing. It was loud, 
but far from charming. 

^What in the deuce!" cried Satan. 
Then he laughed, and pulled his visitor 
by the sleeve. ^'Did you ever hear that 
melody before? The basso surely pos- 
sesses a bully voice! Why, it is the song 
of the Minotaur. See him standing by 
the orchard?" 

"Of all things!" Conklin exclaimed 
when he perceived from a distance the 
horridly formed monster chewing an ap- 
ple between stanzas. "Is he still here? 
208 



What is he doing? What are those 
torches in the orchard?" 

"His duty is to prevent the spirits 
from getting any fruit. Torches? Ha! 
they are not torches, but souls burning 
from thirst, — souls that climbed through 
life regardless of the feelings of others." 

"I don't like to look at him, Satan." 

"Don't blame you at all — neither do 
I. Let's be going." He lifted Conklin 
once more and bore him to the 'elevator, 
where they waited patiently for the bell- 
buoy to answer the call. While they sat 
there, James remarked pensively: 

"Wouldn't love be a better means of 
correction than the violent means you 
apply here in Hell?" 

"Do you fancy that Hell was made 
for love? Don't you think we know our 
business? Have I made a study of hu- 
man nature for centuries for nothing? 
Love, my dear fellow, should be given to 
little children, beginning with the cra- 
dle; and to all people who are capable 
of receiving and appreciating it; but 

aog 



hardened rascals must undergo a severe 
treatment first to soften them up. A per- 
son with a hardened heart must have the 
shell pounded off with a hammer before 
touching it with precious ointment. Do 
you believe in casting pearls before 
swine? We love our correctees; — don't 
go away with the idea that we hurt them 
because of hate. Some day they will even 
thank us for their chastening." 

Charon came at last, and with a busi- 
ness-like air, which he had learned from 
Mammon, he took in the Hell-master 
and James, and carried them downward, 
yet downward. His flaming eyes wheeled 
upward with a mournfully thoughtful 
express-ion, giving him a sad and woeful 
appearance: no doubt he was rue-minat- 
ing over his past life as ferry-man, es- 
pecially the shady side of it. For the 
moment he looked really religious. 



2X0 



CHAPTER VIII 

Circus Horribilimus 

"/^OING down! Last floor!" shouted 
^^ Charon, opening the gate that leads 
into the lowest circle of Hell, which is 
the most horrible. 

"How is it that I have not run across 
any shades being carried to the various 
circuses?" the Scotchman demanded as 
they stepped out of the 'elevator. "Has 
the business stopped?" 

"Not by any means," answered Satan 
grimly. "They are being brought down 
by the back way while you are with us, 
according to my strict behest. I did not 
wish you to be dis-turbed by their mourn- 
ful howls and despairing complaints, 
which are enough to unnerve a dead 
man. But let us not dwell upon that sub- 
ject. I do not like to think of it. I am 
with it too much as it is. Would you 
like my job?" 



211 



Conklin shook his head sadly, emphat- 
ically, decisively. 

"Of course not," the Devil continued, 
"any more than I would like yours. Each 
man to his own work, which is his in 
spite of its disagreeable side. Every job 
has unpleasant features." 

He took his protege firmly by the 
shoulder to give him courage. "Prepare 
now to behold hideous things," he said. 
"Hold yourself together with all your 
will. Clench your teeth and stiffen your 
thumbs. We have entered the bottom of 
the Pit, where the worst and most incor- 
rigible of the wicked souls are violently 
corrected. Some people think there are 
no criminals that can not be made good 
citizens by applied theory, but they de- 
ceive themselves. I have had enough ex- 
perience with people to know that there 
are many whose motives are hopelessly 
and helplessly evil. Shall we waste time 
by being tender with them? Tenderness 
only makes them worse. Treating them 
with kindness gives them the more op- 



2za 



pottunity to work their cunning. Ab- 
sence is their best condition." 

Conklin shuddered. "Who are these 
dreadful culprits?" he cried hoarsely. 

"Murderers who killed useful people; 
women who influenced others not to have 
dear little children; all parties to abor- 
tion ; criminals who went beyond the or- 
dinary stages of crime in any direction; 
teachers who selfishly monkeyed with the 
minds of trusting pupils, especially 
teachers with artificial systems of pseudo- 
philosophy and theology; jealous, vain, 
selfish and inefficient generals; persons 
who by manufacturing and selling intox- 
icating liquors caused drunkenness, ab- 
ject poverty, starvation of soul and body, 
crime, useless suffering, disease, deform- 
ity and degeneracy. It would do more 
harm than good to go into details about 
the foul acts of these abominable shades, 
yet you will benefit by seeing some of 
our methods of correction, of which we 
are justly proud. 

"This black building at our left is the 

2X3 



Inquisitors' Dungeon, where all who tor- 
tured others merely for religious reasons 
are broken and re-broken. We borrowed 
many of our modes from Christian insti- 
tutions such as the Inquisition, hospitals, 
mad-houses, asylums, homes for neuras- 
thenics, and dental offices. You may be 
sure that we have our breaking tortures 
performed with religious scrupulous- 
ness — ha! Do you see that shed built 
on the main building as an extension? 
There the nihilists, bomb-throwers, and 
destructive socialists, and fire-bugs, hav- 
ing enjoyed picnics in their own section 
of this circus over to the west, are cast 
into vacuum-mills and ground up to 
nothing. The beauty of their correction 
is that they are corrected once for all — 
when we finish with them, they are fin- 
ished — not even an electron is left. But 
it is right. Now let us use our eyes; 
you'd better put your pads in your ears 
and hold your fingers up against them." 
They crossed a threshold which 
seemed to Conklin to be running with 

ai4 



blood. Dreadful presentiments passed 
through his mind. He held himself to- 
gether manfully, however, and tagging 
on to Satan's arm staggered into the main 
business hall. Sounds too awful to men- 
tion beat his sensitive ear-drums almost 
into pulp, and sights too horrible to 
speak of met his tender eyes. With a cry 
he fell in a dead faint. 

"Hell-o!" he dimly heard a voice say 
some time afterward — how long, he 
could not tell. "Coming around again?" 

"I guess so," said the patient weakly. 
"Is that you, Satan, banging tin-pans and 
drums and kettles in my ears?" 

"No, that was the drummer-boy, dear 
James." 

"The hammering hurts my head," 
moaned the latter. 

"That is only the Hamma-melis which 
I am rubbing on your forehead." 

"I see things, oh, I see things I" 

"So do I." 

"What was that funny story you were 
telling me when the gun went off and 
the corpses jumped?" „5 



"Funny story? I wasn't telling you a 
— oh, yes, certainly," answered the Chief 
of Hades in a soothing tone — he realized 
that James's brain was in a critical con- 
dition and that his mind demanded as- 
sent, not contradiction, "certainly, of 
course — ha ha! I had begun to relate the 
tale of how Patrick McCarthy met 
Michael Sullivan in the shower depart- 
ment." 

"Tell some more, please!" begged 
Conklin plaintively. 

"Well, you know, Pat and Mike had 
been good friends on earth; but it hap- 
pened that Pat seemed to be religious 
there, while Mike made no such preten- 
tions. At any rate, they both of them 
threw cold water to beat the Dutch, and 
as a result they had to take their medi- 
cine when they kicked the bucket. 

"Mike was awfully surprised to meet 
his old friend face to face, because he 
expected never to see him again. 

" Thwat an ivint!' he cried out with 
an oath. 

2K6 



" Th' divil of a rrascal ye be!' replied 
Pat with a string of cuss words longer 
than Brooklyn Bridge and the Hudson 
tunnels. ^Sure an' phwy don't yez git in 
out o' th' rrain? How in Hill did yez 
happen t' coome here?' 

" ^Oi kicked the bucket, Pat,' says Mike 
oily like, *an' whin Oi arrived at me sta- 
ation, th' waterr was jist commincin' t' 
land. Sure an' how did yez git here 
yesilf?' 

" *Av coorse Oi kicked th' damned 
bucket, too, Moike ; but as they war pull- 
in' me oop in th' pale o' th' choich, th' 
bottom av th' damned ting fill out, an' 
th' nixt ting Oi 'noo an imp of Hill had 
me by the nick!' " 

"Ha ha!" shouted Conklin, "ha ha! ha 
ha!" His face suddenly resumed its nat- 
ural expression after his hilarious out- 
break, and the color returned to his 
cheeks. He breathed deeply and sat up. 

"What a smell!" he ejaculated, turn- 
ing his head around to discover whence 
came the dis-comforting odor. Beside 

ax7 



Satan, who was just putting the bottle of 
witch-hazel away in his hip pocket, stood 
Charon, the ancient 'elevator boy, with 
mouth gaping wide open and belching 
forth its fetid breath. 

"Where am I?" he cried in alarm as 
he put his fingers to his nose. 

"You are with friends, my boy," an- 
swered Satan, patting him on the shoul- 
der. "There is no cause for dis-trust. 
You are in the 'elevator, and we are tak- 
ing you home." 

James sank back on the plush cushions 
like a man who has recovered from a 
bad vision. "T'ell Charron — t'ell Char- 
ron — that — if — he — had time to go 
around from one circus to another, the 
shades would need no other corrector!" 
he murmured. 

Satan almost doubled up from laugh- 
ter, and then motioned to Charon to go 
back to his lever, which, as they were 
ascending very slowly in order not to jar 
James, had been fastened in the notch 
for the lowest speed. The boy carefully 

2X8 



shoved the bar out several notches and 
sent the car soaring upward like a bird 
trying out its wings in the morning air. 

"We are nearly there," said the Devil 
to his visitor after a long period of si- 
lence. "It has been a great pleasure to 
have you with us, even for so short a 
time ; and I am glad that you are in such 
a good condition after your many won- 
derful yet harrowing experiences. Had 
I not known that you were extra strong, 
I should never have told you and shown 
you what I have about the human race 
and its manners after death. Now is there 
any question you would like to ask be- 
fore we leave Hell?" 

"Yes, one question," replied Conklm 
as he staggered to his feet and clung to 
Satan for support. "What is your t'ele- 
phone — I mean t'elepath number?" 

"All paths lead toward me. My num- 
ber is Glaza — 22147, which reaches 
Mammon, too. Beelzebub's number 
which also connects with — who is that 
scholarly devil? oh, yes, Gog — I am al- 

azg 



ways forgetting names — is Mourningside 
3305. Don't hesitate for an instant when- 
ever you think you need me or wish to 
ask my advice, which is free to all. 

"Here we are at the ground floor. 
Wait for me, Charon. How dark it is! 
What's happened to the lights? No mat- 
ter, I know the way, — don't be afraid. 
Yes, keep your asbestos coat for a sou- 
venir — you may need it some day." 

He seized Conklin scientifically and 
bore him swiftly up through the cold 
crater of the mountain to his distant dom- 
icile, where he placed him tenderly in 
bed, sleeping. 

"Whether peacefully slumbering or 
awake and kicking, man is sure to fol- 
low me," he said to himself as he flew 
back to the 'elevator, where the trans- 
formed water-rat impatiently awaited 
him with wheeling eyes revolving to- 
ward the ground. 

"Going down!" cried Charon as he 
threw over the lever; and they descended 
to the place which was their home. 

END 



ERRATUM 

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** 'MARK well my name, 'twas spread 
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